Chapter 8: The Fourth Encounter Part III
As Fili ate, he kept a close observance on the other tables around him as he watched the early risers of the guild break their fasts. For the most part, most of them were all still half asleep as they hurriedly ate their gruel and moved on to begin their daily tasks. The table next to him was the most distracting. It was filled with a group of unruly men, all of them talking loudly and laughing with one another while occasionally rough housing over the table as they tossed pieces of food at one another.
He was so distracted by the commotion of the neighboring table, that he failed to notice anyone approach him. So when a plate was dropped loudly on the table at the seat across from him, Fili jumped at the sudden sound and looked up to see who was joining his company.
To his surprise it was Thyra who was sliding onto the bench across from him. He stared at her in utter disbelief as she settled down without a word and began to eat. After she swallowed her first mouthful she looked up at him, her usual displeased frown adorning her face as she scrutinized him.
"What?" she asked sharply.
Fili looked around. There were several open seats among the tables that made up the mess ten. Of all the choices she had, why did she choose to sit here?
"Why are you sitting with me?"
She stared at him for a long pause as if she too where unsure of how to answer him. She shrugged.
"You were sitting alone," she said plainly before going back to her eating.
"Yes, but..."
She looked back up at him, annoyance clearly written across her face.
"My sitting next to you was not an invitation to openly converse."
Fili stared at her in confusion. If she did not want to talk then why did she sit by him.
"Then why did you sit here if you did not wish to speak with me?" he persisted, ignoring her earlier declaration of not wanting to speak.
Why was he arguing this? He asked himself. It was not like he wanted to speak to her. Not when everything that fell from her mouth was an insult.
She let her spoon fall down to her plate and looked up at him, impatience shining in her eyes.
"It is rude to let a fellow man eat alone, it brings bad fortune to not break bread with another."
"Since when did you start to care about my good fortune?"
She rolled her eyes.
"Bad fortune for ME" she emphasized. "I care nothing for you."
Without another word she continued eating her food.
Fili was at a loss for words. He could not understand this woman before him. She was inconsistent and foreign, two things he neither liked nor trusted. He watched her as she ate, noting the flash of dark irises each time she checked to see if he was still looking at her.
Most people would look away after being caught the first time, but Fili did not care if he was being rude. At least not to her. He had never met anyone who could do something polite and be rude about it at the same time.
He thought about what she had said earlier. She had said it brought bad fortune to let someone eat alone. Never in his life had he heard that before and he was curious about the history of her strange superstitions.
"Where did you—"
He was cut off as she let out a groan of annoyance. She glared up at him then quickly stood and walked away to throw away her half eaten breakfast before returning her bowl to the kitchen hands. He watched her give him one more glance, her frown deepening as she noticed he was still watching her. It did not last long as she disappeared behind a crowd of dwarves making their way to breakfast.
Sigurd and Kili walked together towards the mess tent when they saw Thyra storming away from it. Sigurd tried to hail her but Thyra only gave her an offhanded wave before continuing on to an unknown destination.
"Am I to assume she is not a morning person?" Kili commented hesitantly.
He meant it as a joke but all the same, Thyra did not seem like a morning, day, evening, or night person. Sigurd gave a slight chuckle understanding his meaning.
"No, she is not, yet she still gets up at the crack of dawn nearly every day. But that was still unusual behavior even for her. There was definitely something that caused her to be extra irksome this morning," she answered as she looked ahead at the mess tent.
As she caught sight of an annoyed looking Fili left in Thyra's wake, things began to slide into place.
"And I think I may have found the source," she added as she pointed to Fili. "I should probably go see what happened."
Kili could see the urgency of her want to settle the mystery of Thyra's foul mood. Although he still knew very little of either of them, Kili could tell their bond went deeper than let on. It was a strange friendship that the two maidens shared. Sigurd was the sweetest person he had ever met and Thyra was about as sweet as a lemon. He knew it took a special kinship to allow such opposites to gravitate into a friendship, strange as it was.
"You go ahead," Kili encouraged, "I will grab us some breakfast if you want to head over to him now."
She smiled at his kind offer.
"Thank you. That would be wonderful."
As he departed from her side and she turned to face Fili sitting grumpily at the table ahead. The intimidation of approaching him sent the familiar tremors within her body to come rushing back.
Slowly, she took in a deep, calming breath and willed the trembling to stop before taking a step, then another. There were far and few people Sigurd felt completely at ease with. It was an ailment that had followed her nearly all her life. And she had always hated it.
She liked people. She liked talking with others and enjoying their company. But she had always struggled with her insecurities ever since that day.
Her earliest childhood memories were full of her bounding around the encampment, greeting anyone and everyone. But it all changed nearly seventy years ago. Since then it had always been the same when she was meeting new people. Her heart would excel, her body would shake, and her voice would stutter. Ever since it would take years of consistent exposure to a person before she could truly be at ease and communicate easily with them.
That is until Thyra showed up.
The Régίnn was not exactly what Sigurd aspired to be. But she had characteristics that Sigurd coveted. She was calm and collected with her speech. Even when she struggled with the language she still gave off an eased confidence that went unperturbed by other people's thoughts. She said what she thought without consequence, never regretting her words.
While Sigurd never wanted to be brash like Thyra, she did still want to be able to voice what she thought without being afraid of someone disagreeing. Upon her first interaction with Thyra, Sigurd was still a stuttering knotted ball of anxiety whenever she met with new people.
Now, it was nearly invisible to others.
It was all thanks to Thyra for teaching her how to find the ability to suppress such handicaps. Although perhaps 'teaching' was not exactly the correct term for Thyra's method. Despite the improvement, she still always had a small dosage constantly coursing through her veins with the exception of only a handful of people.
Oddly enough, Kili fell within that group. In fact, now that she thought about it, she could not recall a time she ever felt the familiar anxiety when she was alone with him. Only did it make itself known around him when they were among others of his traveling companions.
As Sigurd sat down across from Fili and gave him a warm smile and greeting. She received the same actions from the golden prince but his was offered with strained effort.
She looked out across the mess tent to find Kili happily walking towards her with two bowls of food. As he settled in next to her and slid her bowl to rest in front of her on the table, the underlying anxiety that had arisen while alone with Fili dulled then faded completely.
It surprised her, the only other person whose presence managed to quell her anxiety around others was Thyra. Even Asha could never fully still the restless unease that lay beneath her skin when with those she had yet to fully acclimate to.
Kili immediately began to eat his food as he prodded his brother for information of earlier events that caused Thyra's foul mood. When he failed to get a full answer from his brother he turned to face Sigurd, a warmth came to his face upon seeing her watching him with an odd expression.
He gave her a wide smile as he tried to ignore the nervous churning in his stomach.
In an attempt to distract her from catching any signs of his nerves, he gently nudge her bowl that she had seemingly forgotten.
"Eat up before it gets cold," he encouraged.
Sigurd blinked suddenly having been unaware of her starring. A tint of color came to her cheeks as she realized that she had not even asked Fili about Thyra's mood. She had been too distracted by her observation of Kili. Immediately, she began to take quick, small bites of her food in an effort to compose herself. But she was stopped when Fili spoke up.
"Why did Asha choose Thyra?"
Kili who had also looked to his brother when he spoke, returned his attention to her. He too had been curious about such things. Sigurd looked between the two then finally, after much deliberation, set her utensil down and took in a breath.
"To be honest, it surprised me as well. We have many who are amiable fighters who would be better matched against Dwalin. Not that Thyra is an incapable fighter, but the disadvantage is obvious...or at least the appearance of it is." At this comment she received two confused looks. So she continued. "I know this fight is all a wager, a game of chance. If you lose, we do not help. If you win, we help. But there is a reason why Asha chose Thyra. It is because whatever Asha wants the outcome to be, Thyra will do everything to see that it happens. Asha's wishes, are Thyra's command. This is not a game of chance. It is only a show. The outcome will be whatever Asha wishes."
Their expressions were still full of their earlier confusion, Fíli's containing a slight bit of skepticism mixed in.
Sigurd sagged slightly, she knew that they would not understand without further information. Unfortunately, that information was about Thyra and Thyra was a very private person. She wanted to respect her friend but again, maybe it would not be too intrusive if she just gave a little.
With this in mind, she explained further.
"I know you two are not fully familiar with the Régínn and to fully understand what I mean, there is something you must know about their culture. Their oaths and their words are taken very seriously. To break a promise is a serious offense. Those who break their word are heavily ostracized within the Régínn. That being said, they have what is called a life debt. An oath given by an Régínn to someone else. The oath binds them to do that persons bidding for however many years they swear. No matter what, that Régínn must fulfill what is asked, otherwise they will take their own life for breaking their oath."
"And Thyra swore a life debt to Asha?" Kili asked.
Sigurd nodded.
"For how long?"
"Fifteen years," Sigurd answered. "She is nearly halfway finished."
"I still don't understand how Asha is guaranteed whatever she wishes," Fili stated, bringing both Kili's and Sigurd's attention to him. "While determination is all good and well, I still do not see how Thyra could so easily win or lose."
Sigurd smiled faintly.
"I believe you underestimate Thyra's fortitude. I have no doubt that Thyra will win or lose depending on what Asha commands. Her life would depend on it if Asha told her specifically which outcome to have." She looked around at them. "Don't worry though. Your company still has hope. Asha only instructed Thyra to fight, not win, and I have yet to ever see Asha abuse the life debt that Thyra owes her. At this point, the match truly is in the hands of the Valar."
Thorin had expected to get stopped when he approached the gate that led from the compound, but whether it was by Asha's order, or the guard simply did not care, he soon found himself wandering through the woods. It was still early morning but he wanted some time to himself to think before surrounding himself at breakfast with the others. He did not wander too far from the compound as he had no weapons and the area around him was uncharted for enemies. So after five minutes, he found himself sitting on a dry patch of gravel, listening to the sound of the babbling brook a few paces away.
He sat meditatively with his eyes closed and face tilted up to the sky. The soothing trickle of water cleared his mind of all the worries that had kept him up the entire night.
His mind had been clear for only a few minutes when his peace was disturbed by the sloshing of boots treading through water. His eyes snapped open to see Thyra walking through the water towards him. Her eyes where set on him as she gave a silent inquiry to approach.
He gave her a slight nod and she continued her course towards him.
Nestled on her back was the familiar broadsword and in her right hand she held a roped netting. Something twitched within it and his eyes caught a flash of a scaled fish. The corner of Thorin's mouth curled slightly at the sight.
Once within an appropriate proximity, Thyra let the net drop and undid the buckle holding her sword before gently laid it down before squatting next to the fish. From a pouch by her hip she procured a thin fillet knife and went to work cleaning the fish.
Thorin watched with a transfixed fascination to the speed and accuracy of her hands. She scaled, gutted, and rinsed the fish with practiced efficiency. Pausing in her work as she grabbed a second one she looked up at him, contemplated for a moment, then held the fish out to him.
Catching her meaning, Thorin moved himself up and walked over to her. He took the fish from her outstretched hand then squatted down next to her as he accepted the second knife she had pulled from her pouch.
Together they worked in silence. By the time Thorin was finishing his first fish, Thyra was moving on to her fourth.
Thorin watched her from the corner of his eye as he worked. Her dark eyes were set on her work, fully focused and calm. As she finished the fish she was working on she looked up at him before starting on the next. Her hands rested on her knees as she squatted in front of the work still yet to be done.
"You worry?" she asked.
Thorin contemplated his answer. Her question could have been lay to any number of topics and he wondered if she had not specified on purpose. She was giving him an option to choose which worry he would wish to discuss.
"I will feel better when the duel is over and I will know whether or not I will have help," he said.
Thyra nodded with a hum as she let her eyes look over the fish in her hand. She twirled the knife a few times before finally looking up at him again.
"I hope you win," she said after a while.
Thorin finished off the fish he was working on then raised a brow at her.
"You would bet against yourself?"
Thyra looked thoughtful but she did not reply to his question immediately. Instead, she grabbed his finished fish and held out another to him.
"You work slow," she commented as she went back to work on her own.
Thorin smiled but followed her lead. They had worked for a few more minutes when she finally spoke again.
"I would not wish to be the reason you fail," he looked up from his work to see that she had paused in her work again and was looking up at him. "You deserve to claim and be a true King...a good one," she added with a nod.
He could tell her words to be the purest of honesty. He had heard many people tell him such things all his life, but none he felt the full belief more than this girl that could hardly be categorized above a stranger in his book of associations. Yet, despite the unfamiliarity between them, it truly meant a lot.
"Thank you," was all he could think to say.
She nodded then went back to finish the final fish in the pile. As she began gathering the fish and rinsed her hands, Thorin stood with her and handed back the borrowed knife after wiping it off on his pant leg. The action seemed to amuse Thyra but she made no comment as she accepted the blade back. With everything gathered and her sword reclaimed, she began walking away.
Just as Thorin began thinking she would disappear without any word, she halted and turned to face him.
"Do not mistake, I fight my best today," she said firmly. "But I hope the big man fight better."
With that she disappeared and left Thorin alone again to muse over the oddity of the girl.
An eruption of noise sounded and echoed out from the compound.
Asha walked into the middle of the training field to a round of applause and whistles from the members of the Guild. She held up her hands, calling for silence then began speaking as the noise died down.
"Today a member of our camp and a member of Thorin Oakenshield's company will duel," she said loudly as she slowly turned in a circle to address all those present in equality. "This fight will determine if the Guild of the Lost will aid Thorin in his quest to reclaim Erebor. Should we help them, all members of the Guild are welcome to claim citizenship within the stronghold upon our success."
There was a rush of excited whispers that followed this statement. Asha raised her hand in the air to call for silence again.
"Would the competitors please come forth."
Dwalin was the first to walk forward.
Shouts of encouragement came from all around but the highest density of the cheers came from Asha's right where the company all stood together. With each step, everyone present could hear the force that he carried within himself.
His axe was resting against his shoulder as he sauntered to the middle of the ring where Asha was awaiting him. Just as he closed the majority of the distance, a hush came across the crowd, followed by the rustle and shuffling of feet and bodies as the crowd parted.
Through the opening of the crowd, Thyra made her way towards the arena.
A thick purple tunic with an armored leather gilet fastened around her torso and matching leather armbands around her wrists. Only her sword was carried on her back, her shield left behind. Her eyes had their usual dark rims but on her right eye, starting above her brow to the cheek bone, rested an ashened line. It conveyed a barbaric tone which unsettled Fili as he watched her mutley walk towards the middle of the arena.
As she parted from the crowd and singled herself out by stepping into the official ring, the silence that had settled by her arrival was lost as spectators began to call out. Some wished her well while others jeered and made snide comments about being put into her place.
Judging by the majority of the remarks, Fili was filled with the sense that Thyra had done well to not only gather his own dislike, but nearly half of the camp in which she resided. All of the words voiced went ignored, both the good and the bad, as Thyra continued to walk straight past them, her eyes set for her destination.
As both Thyra and Dwalin came together at the center, they both silently stared at each other as Asha spoke loud enough so those within the first layer of people surrounding could hear.
"Thyra, you are familiar with our ways and rules of the fighting ring all too well, as does the rest of the camp," she said looking to Thyra. "But for the sake of Dwalin and his companions, I will review."
She directed her attention to Dwalin.
"We only really go by one rule, the rest are just what others would call dirty fighting but are perfectly acceptable if that is the way you wish to fight." There was a chorus of laughter from the permanent residents of the camp. "Our one rule, is that there be no lethal or potentially lethal injuries. Other than that, you are free to do whatever. You may choose whatever weapon or method of fighting you wish. The winner will be determined in a few ways. Forfeit from an opponent, knocking an opponent unconscious, or pinning them down so the opponent can no longer fight." She pointed to a brass bell located next to where Thorin stood. "The final way is if someone outside of the arena forfeits for the contestant. Thorin for Dwalin and myself for Thyra. Are we all at an understanding?" she asked, looking to Thyra then Dwalin.
After each of them had nodded their consent, Asha gave a nod of approval.
Dwalin began swinging his arms forwards and backwards while rolling his neck, doing his best to loosen his joints and muscles. Thyra was doing the same, shaking her arms and jumping up and down.
Fili watched as each contestant sized each other up as they prepared themselves. The more he compared them the more he became irritated. What had Asha been thinking when she picked Thyra? Sigurd's earlier conversation did little to aid him in finding this answer as he looked at Dwalin towering over Thyra. Thyra may have had an aggressive appearance, but seeing them next to each other, it looked like one good punch from Dwalin and she would be out cold.
Dwalin looked to the company and whistled.
"Fili, catch."
He said, tossing his large axe in the air.
Fili caught it in the air with one hand and leaned it against the fence.
Dwalin turned to Asha and nodded before again looking to Thyra with a large, confident smirk on his face. Thyra's face twitched as her brow came together but she remained calm and composed. Without a word she withdrew her sword, walked over to Sigurd standing near the fence, and mumbled something in Régan as she rested it against the post. As she came back to the center, Dwalin snorted with a laugh.
"You may want to go back and retrieve that. We want a fair fight."
"Then get the axe," she said with a smile.
Dwalin's smile widened at her spunk but gave her a shrug. He spat on the ground and raised his fists as he got into fighting stance.
"Very well, don't say I warned you runt."
This time Thyra showed no sign of acknowledgement from his insult. Instead she took her own stance, one foot slightly farther back as she left her hands loosely to her side.
"You may begin," Asha said as she quickly retreated to take her place next to Thorin beside the bell.
Dwalin began circling her and Thyra slowly pivoted as she watched him closely. When it became apparent that she would not attack first, Dwalin charged.
With a rare speed and agility, Thyra stepped away and dodged his advance.
Dwalin swiftly turned around, and charged at her again, his heavy footsteps sounding like thunder in a storm as he made his advance. This time, Thyra did not move out of the way.
Instead she bent down, avoiding his arms and rolled into his legs. Dwalin went tumbling down into the dirt as he tripped over her. There was a loud thud as he crashed into the ground and he let out an enraged growl of frustration as he stood back up. His breathing was heavy and fast, not from exhaustion, but from rage.
Thyra used her momentum from rolling into Dwalin's legs to rise to her feet. A crooked smile was on her face as she watched him get back to his feet and brush off a layer of dust.
"Are you sure you do not want your axe?" she said smugly in Régan.
Dwalin glowered at her. He had no idea what she had said but he knew by her tone she was insulting him.
On the sidelines of the dueling ring, Fili was enraptured as the fight commenced.
He thought for sure it would have ended by now from a single punch from Dwalin. But the large dwarf had yet even lay a finger on her. It was obvious that Thyra was used to fighting brawn and she her strategy seemed to be working. Already Dwalin was getting frustrated, which meant his attacks would become less thought out and could easily lead to mistakes. Thyra was smart, there was no doubting that, therefore, Dwalin could not afford to lose his wits.
At the start of the fight, Sigurd had made her way over to where the company spectated. Currently she stood next to himself and his brother and with each narrow miss of Dwalin's fists, Fili heard her take in a deep breath.
As the fight went on and Dwalin had still yet to touch Thyra, he changed his tactics. Instead of charging, he went back to circling.
With each circle he made, he would faint forward as if to charge. But with each faint , Fili noticed he inched slightly closer. It was subtle and Fili had just barely caught it after he gained his third inch. Once he noticed, Fili wondered if Thyra was noticing is slow progression as well.
Dwalin made as if to throw a punch with his left hand but as Thyra's feet moved to dodge the blow he threw a quick jab with his right. Thyra's head flew back as she stumbled backwards several steps, nearly falling to the ground but she managed to regain her balance at the last moment.
Fili was astonished that she was still standing let alone conscious. He had been on the receiving end of Dwalin's fists when training and it was powerful.
Despite this, Thyra recovered quickly from her dazed state but a small trickle of blood began to run from the corner of her mouth. Her hand moved up and wiped at it. Red blood shimmered from her fingers as she rubbed her thumb and pointer together. Her dark eyes observed the crimson liquid before flashing up to Dwalin.
Her face hardened. Another small drip of blood began to form on her lip again just before she sucked her lip then spat out a mouthful of blood onto the ground. Dwalin's eyes followed the wad of spit where it landed in the dry dirt. When his eyes lingered on the spot of blood on the ground, Thyra used this distraction and made her first move of offense.
Moving with speed, she grabbed Dwalin's arm and twisted under it as she moved behind him. Dwalin let out a groan as his arm twisted behind his back. Then another groan followed as Thyra brought her foot up and slammed it into the back of his knee.
Dwalin's leg bent and he lost his balance. With his body lower to the ground, Thyra jumped onto his back and wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed. Dwalin grabbed at her arms as she began cutting off his air way but she only tightened her hold more.
Dwalin stood, taking Thyra up with him as he feet dangled in the air. As soon as he had his feet steady, he began twisting violently in an effort to throw Thyra off of his back. Eventually he bent forward with enough force that Thyra's body was sent over his head and onto the ground. A loud thud sounded as she landed on her back.
Dwalin took in deep breaths as he held his throat and made his way over to her. He moved to kick her but she rolled out the way and his foot landed on the ground where she had been.
They were nearing the fence where Fili was standing with his brother and Sigurd, Fili could see the sweat pouring from both of them and their heavy breaths were easily heard as their open mouths drew in and released air from their lungs.
As Dwalin advanced on Thyra, she backed up until her back was pressed against the fence that lined the perimeter of the arena. Dwalin's mouth curled into a snide sneer as he saw that she was cornered. He walked up to her but as he neared, Thyra pulled herself up on the fence and used the middle rung as a step to bring herself higher. She kicked up with her leg and her foot collided with Dwalin's face.
A sickening crunch of cartilage breaking echoed over the arena and a thick stream of blood poured from Dwalin's nose. His eyes crossed and his hands instinctively went to his face as he grunted. He moved his hand to straighten it back into place causing him to expel another pained noise.
Once recovered he dropped his hands as he sneered at Thyra.
Blood covered his face and ran into his mouth, turning his teeth red. His eyes bulged with rage and even though he was not the one fighting him, Fili could not help but feel a slight fear at the sight of Dwalin.
Yet, Thyra seemed unphased by his appearance as she threw herself at Dwalin and they both fell backwards onto the ground.
Thyra sat on his chest, striking down with her fist with several quick jabs until Dwalin caught her arms and rolled until he was kneeling over her with her arms pinned down. His eyes and nose were already turning purple as he glared down at her. Small droplets of his blood dripped down onto her cheeks but she paid them no mind. She was too preoccupied as she struggled to move her pinned arms.
But there was no budging the larger dwarf.
Dwaling brought his head forward and smashed it against hers. Fili felt himself wince as he watched her head fly back into the ground. Again he thought for sure it would knock her out cold but she was still moving. She shifted her shoulders and twisted. The movement was not much but it was enough to cause Dwalin to fall forward, due to all his weight being supported by his arms.
Thyra managed to roll out from under him and staggered up to retreat several paces back.
She was heavily dazed by the headbutt which seemed to not even have the slightest effect on Dwalin as he stood back up. Thyra's steps where loopy like a drunkard and blood ran down from a large gash on her forehead where Dwalin had managed to split open her skin.
Thyra quickly swiped at the blood that poured from the wound before it could run into her eyes but it was obvious that the blow to her head had done severe damage. She stumbled to her knees and struggled to stand back up only to fall back down. Again she swiped at the blood that was now running into her eyes as she crawled on her hands and knees, shaking her head in an attempt to bring back clarity.
Taking advantage on her dazed state. Dwalin walked steadily up to her as she continued to crawl on her hands and knees. Being oblivious to his close proximity, she was easily taken over as Dwalin roughly flipped her over onto her back.
He kicked down onto her stomach. She let out a wretched sound but rolled away as he moved to send another kick to her side. As she moved her arms to her injured side, Dwalin pounced. His heavy body pinning her legs and arms to her sides as he held her shoulders down. Thyra wriggled around but there seemed to be no escape this time. She moved to bend her neck in an attempt to bite his hand which was firmly planted on her shoulder but Dwalin was watching her too closely now.
One quick jab with his right hand to her face sent her head back to the ground and before she could manage to move again, the same hand found the column of her neck.
It took minimal effort for his large hand to easily block off the passageway of her small throat. Within seconds she was struggling to take in weak, ragged breaths.
When Asha had awoken that morning, she had told herself she was willing to let fate fall where it may. She had been willing to accept whatever the outcome. Win or lose, she was going to let everything play out as the Valar wished. But as she watched Thyra, wriggling on the ground and gasping for breath, she felt as if it was herself that was being strangled.
The feeling made her begin to breath faster until her chest heaved. She gripped the fence post in front of her and dug her nails into the soft wood. Suddenly she felt panic rise within her chest as a realization hit her. Thyra was going to lose and that frightened her. Not just frightened, it terrified, petrified, stupefied.
The future was written out plainly before her. Thorin was going to win their wager. The Guild was going to help reclaim Erebor. The entire population of the Guild would be in Erebor. Thorin was going to see HIM. Learn of HIM. Her worst nightmare would come true and Thorin's ultimate rejection would take place.
That could not happen.
The protest echoed within her mind causing her arms to shake. She had to do something, she had to prevent it from happening. Flashes of her past nightmares that involved Thorin finding out the one truth she had never truly uttered in her life played through her mind. With panic stricken eyes she wrenched her head up from where she had been staring down at her white knuckled hands and focused on Thyra who was now on the verge of blacking out.
"Thyra!" she screamed loudly, her voice retching with desperation. "Ekki tapa! Ekki tapa!" she repeated in Régan. "Do not lose!"
. . . . . . . . . . . . .