Chapter 12: The Son Encounter: Part I

"Oh blast it all," Bilbo grumbled under his breath, causing the few walking near him to look his way.

"What troubles you?" Sigurd asked from where she and Thyra followed behind him.

"Oh I lost several of the buttons from my waist coat when we escaped the goblins. Only two of them managed to stay on by a few loose threads. I meant to mend them before we left since they still held the coat closed enough to function but I forgot," he explained. "Now I have gone and lost one and even if I mend the remaining one it is just not enough to keep the thing closed."

Having grown accustomed to the hobbits need for certain civilized things, the majority of the group only rolled their eyes. But Sigurd, the ever sympathetic one, gave him a compassionate expression before vocalizing a wish that she had an extra button to spare.

After giving her an appreciative nod, Bilbo politely assured her he would be fine. But despite his words of assurance, it was still visible on his face that things were still not well with him.

As the day went on, the hobbit continued to constantly pull at his waist coat as if one of the times he yanked on it, it would magically stay shut. But each time, to his discouragement, the article of clothing sprang open and by the end of the day, the final button had come fully off.

Later in the evening in the dim light of the night, Fili watched as Bilbo struggled to sew the button back in a way that would hold the waist coat closed enough to function properly.

Fili felt his eyelids droop and was about to turn in for the night when he caught sight of Thyra approaching the small halfling. He had not seen much of her that day as she had only traveled with them for a short hour in the morning before breaking from the group to scout ahead.

It was not often that the Régínn went out of her way to interact with anyone aside from Sigurd. Curious as to why she was approaching the hobbit, he watched closely.

When she was two steps away, Thyra stopped and crouched down before the struggling halfling. With slow movements, she stretched out a fisted hand and then uncurled her fingers, palm up. The dim light made it difficult to make out but within her palm lay four round objects.

At first Fiki thought they were stones, but before he could even fathom why Thyra would offer Bilbo stones, he realized the were not stones but buttons.

Hesitantly Bilbo held out his hand and to Fili's surprise, Thyra deposited four pewter buttons into his hand. As soon as the last button was free from her hand, Thyra stood up and moved to leave for her bed roll but paused when Bilbo spoke. They were only a few yards away but in the lateness of the night, they spoke quietly as several were already asleep. Due to their hushed tones, Fili found himself straining to hear them.

"Thank you," Bilbo said.

Thyra shook her head.

"No thanks. Luck came upon you today. I found them."

A perplexed expression came to Bilbo's face but he did not question it. He only nodded.

"Thank you all the same," he said lifting the hand holding the buttons, "for saving them for me."

Thyra shrugged but said nothing else as she walked away.

Fili watched her in confusion and disbelief. He failed to believe the coincidence of her just happening to find four buttons in terra nullius lands. But the effort to solve the mystery was dwarfed by his need to sleep and he quickly laid down his head and abruptly succumbed to a dreamless rest.

Thyra was standing to the side of the hobbit as she watched him practice simple parrys and blocks with his small sword. He thrust his arm forward and Thyra shook her head as she said something to him. Fili watched Bilbo as he dropped his arm to his side and looked ashamed. Thyra gave no regard to his shamed face as she moved in front of him, pulling out a dagger.

She motioned for him to attack and he thrust forward. With ease she raised her dagger up and blocked his blow. As the two weapons clashed together, Thyra pushed slightly forward and Bilbo fell backwards onto the ground, losing his grip on his sword. As the cloud of dust from his fall began to settle, Thyra reached down and roughly pulled him to his feet. As he brushed himself off, she walked over to retrieve his sword. After handing Bilbo back his sword, Thyra took a stance before him.

"Again," she said flatly.

With slight hesitation, Bilbo moved forward. It was with poor technique and it took Thyra little effort to disarm the hobbit again. To add emphasis to his failure, she sent a forceful kick to his chest. Bilbo fell backwards again and grunted as the breath left his lungs. When the dust settled from his fall, he was found gasping deeply as he held a hand to his chest.

Thyra shook her head and let out an annoyed grunt as she stomped over to him after retrieving his sword again. Pulling him up none too gracefully. She shoved the hilt of his sall sword into his hand and squeezed his hands around the metal handle.

"You hold or you die," she said instructively. "Tighter grip."

Stepping back she took a stance.

"Again," she demanded.

Bilbo took in a breath and tightened his hold, determination written upon his face as he looked at Thyra. Without warning she attacked, striking out forcefully and causing his arm to move to the side. It left him defenseless but he still held tightly onto his sword. A satisfied smile came to Thyra's face as she lowered her own sword and paused to nod her approval. Then, without a word, she swept her foot out and tripped his feet out from under him. Like every other time before, Bilbo fell onto the ground with a hard thud.

As he lay flat on his back she peered down at him with disapproval.

"You die if you can't stay up," she reprimanded. "Get up," she added gruffly over her shoulder, not offering any help this time as circled around him.

Bilbo weakly stood up. Wincing as his bruised back straightened.

Instead of taking an attacking stance before him, she came to his side and instructed him to attack the open space in front of him. Bilbo had made it halfway through his movements when Thyra called out.

"Stop," she commanded.

Bilbo froze with his arm held out in mid air.

"That will get you killed."

Bilbo looked at her. Thyra moved to him and adjusted his shoulders, straightening them back. Then she moved to his legs, kicking them farther apart and moving his left foot a few inches back. She then moved to his arm and lifted it. As she moved his arm she twisted his hand slightly so blade of his sword was angled across his chest instead of parallel with his body.

Thyra stepped back and nodded at his position. She pulled out her knife again and placed it against his blade as if they had been sparing. She gave a push and while he was forced to slightly lean back, his feet stayed firmly in place.

"Remember that position," she instructed. "You will live longer."

Without another word, she walked away towards the river where Fili had just come from. As she neared him, he pushed himself off from the tree he was leaning on and stood at the edge of the path.

"Don't you think you were being a little hard on him?"

She glanced at him as she walked by.

"No," she said flatly before walking on.

Fili frowned and followed after her.

"He is not a fighter," he commented once caught up with her quick pace. "You didn't have to push him to the ground when he didn't know any better. Wouldn't simply correcting him in his stance be better than shoving him?"

She looked over her shoulder, surprised and annoyed to find him following after her.

"I did correct him," she retorted as he caught up with her and matched her pace.

"Not until after you pushed him," Fili pointed out.

"He needed to know what would happen so that next time it happens he won't be startled."

Fili looked at her inquisitively.

"I still don't don't understand why you could not have just told him what would happen and then correct him. You're just bullying him and making him lose confidence in himself by throwing him to the ground."

Thyra stopped walking and turned to face him. Fili stopped as well and watched her, his brow raised as he waited for her reply. He could tell he was getting under her skin but it was a mutual occurrence. She let out an annoyed sigh and looked at him thoughtfully as she folded her arms to her chest.

"Have you ever fallen down during a fight?"

"Of course, no one is perfect," he answered, not sure of where she was going with her question.

"What did you do when you fell?"

"I rolled out of the way and got back into my feet?"

"Why?"

Fili's forehead creased as he looked at her. "Because that is what...I was...trained...to do."

His words slowed down as her reasoning finally began to make sense

Thyra smirked as she caught the clarity come to Fili's face.

"Exactly," her thick accented voice was drenched with a smug tone that made Fili suddenly bristle.

"That still does not mean you have to be so hard on him."

He saw her arm raise as she ran a hand over her face and let out a groan. He heard a string of Régínn curses fall from her mouth that were becoming familiar as their days of traveling together increased. As the words ran out, she turned back around to face him.

"Why not?" she managed. "It is how I trained, it is how you trained. Why should he be different."

"Because I was trained to be a warrior," he stated matter of factly. "You obviously were trained to be a warrior, a protector of your people."

Thyra flinched at his words. It was but a fleeting moment that Fili barely caught. Had he blinked, Fili would have missed it. Before he could process it, she was speaking and his mind moved on with the conversation.

"I fail to see your point."

"Bilbo is a creature of habit that enjoys preserving his gardens harvest and laying doilies on his tables," Fili stated in frustration before adding, "he is not a warrior!"

"Not yet," Thyra corrected. "Perhaps never, but all the more reason. You should know this Feelig if you are to be king. You cannot be blinded by assumption. You have to see what can be created, not what is already there."

Fili's eyes narrowed.

"My name," he hissed, "is FILI."

Thyra's dark eyes gleamed mirthfully as she gave him a smug look as she walked away without another word.

Fili watched her back as her sword thumped against a small pouch that was slung across her shoulder. He had not noticed it before and would not have paid it any attention now had it not been for the pewter button that held the main flap closed.

It was the same design and size as the four buttons that now adorned Bilbo's waist coat. He took in the rest of the bag. Small pockets, two in the front and one on each side accented the bag. However, unlike the largest pocket, tied pieces of string looped through the buttonholes were what kept the contents within from falling out. Suddenly Fili put two and two together.

"I thought you said you found those buttons?" Fili called out to her back.

Thyra barely faltered in step before continuing on and ignored his question.

"Well that did not last very long?" Kili said as he and Sigurd watched Fili follow after Thyra who continued to disregard his questioning words.

Sigurd let out a sigh as she shifted her armful if collected firewood.

"And here I thought things were going so well."

It was true. Things had been going well for the past few days.

Ever since their water fight at the river six days ago, the tension that was usually between Thyra and Fili seemed to have thinned and calmed. Then again, ever since they restarted their journey eastward, the two of them had not spent enough time together to find a disagreement.

Thyra spent most of their days either far ahead of the group, scouting out their path, or far behind, hiding their tracks. She had an endurance none of them could keep up with so Thorin utilized it by having her travel back and forth. Only a couple times a day would they see her when she would report and move on.

In an effort to make up for lost time, Thorin had pushed them hard and long since departing from the guild. As a result, they rose before the sun and made camp late into the night. Being exhausted from the rigorous journeyings, everyone went to bed following a hurried supper that left little time to interact.

Today had been the first day Thorin had allowed them to cut their travels short and make camp in the late afternoon.

For the first time they had time to relax and interact.

While it was good for the group to recuperate, it was now proving that it had one flaw. It seemed that the contention between Thyra and Fili had not been resolved but instead it had only been dormant over the past days. And now, with time to relax and think of things other than aching feet, sleep depravity, and weary muscles, they had gone back to their old ways.

Thyra would do something that was categorized as unacceptable to Fili, he would confront her about it, and she would ignore it. One would think this is where it would end, but it only seemed to fuel the flames of Fili's motivation to confront her.

"I just don't understand why he cannot let it go," Kili pondered aloud. "It is not like him to intentionally provoke anyone."

"Maybe he does not realize he is doing it?" Sigurd suggested. "Thyra has a gift of getting people to act differently around her."

Kili could not deny truth in her words. He had seen it happen with Sigurd and a few others in the company, one of them being Dwalin. He had even noticed Thorin act strangely with her as well. But despite the evidence, he could not fathom Fili being susceptible to it. Fili had always been one of integrity and part of that integrity was civility towards others, no matter who they were.

"I don't know," he sighed. "Fili has always been diplomatic in his dealings with others. I cannot recall a time he ever antagonized someone. Intentional or accidental. He will disagree with other people's beliefs and thoughts, but I have never seen him actually try and provoke the disagreement. He has this way of charming people. Everyone always likes him and looks up to him. That is how he has always been all through growing up and even now." A grimness came to his lips. "Well at least that was how he has been until a few months ago when we first met you two."

"Not that it has anything with you," he quickly added before she could take offense. "It would be impossible for someone to dislike you."

As he said this, Kili looked over to her just in time to see her face suddenly change. Her usually bright blue eyes dimmed to a navy hue as she lowered them and looked down at the ground.

"Not everyone," she said so lowly that Kili had to rely on reading her lips in order to make out her words.

Seeing her with such sorrow written on her face caused Kili's chest to ache with his own sadness. He had never seen such pain nor did he want to ever see such a thing on her face ever again. Instinct told him that whatever caused the change, it had something to do with someone in her past. Not wanting to pry into her personal life, but not wanting to see her so upset for a moment longer, Kili instantly moved without thinking.

"Hey, hey," he said quickly as he dropped his firewood so that he could grab her shoulders and turn her to face him directly.

When her eyes still remained on the ground, downcast and avoiding, he gently grasped her chin and tilted it up until she finally met his eye.

"There is nothing about you that a person would not like. No matter what you think or how a person may act towards you, I can promise you that they only act that way because they are blinded by the darkness of their own lives. It has nothing to do with you."

He was not sure where the words had come from nor why he said them. Wherever the inspiration had come from he was grateful he followed his instinct.

It was slow at first, as if it took her a moment to process and apply his words, but eventually the dimness faded and she gave him a small grateful nod. Pleased with his results, Kili retrieved his discarded firewood and together they went about their work.

They continued making their way through the forest, occasionally stopping for one of them to pick up a fallen branch and add it to their collection. As they continued their work, a happy companionship had fallen between them while they each let their earlier ponderings of Thyra's and Fili's contentions drift away and they moved on to other more jovial topics.

He could have let it go. He should have let it go. But for some unknown reason, Fili found himself following after Thyra.

He had promised himself when Thorin informed the group that Thyra and Sigurd would be joining them in their journey, he would not let his personal issues get in the way of their quest. And for the past near week's time, he had done that. But then again, his time with Thyra had been limited and monitored. Now he found himself following her to Mahal knows where into the woods as she continued to scout the perimeter and ignore his vying command of her attention.

Suddenly after a good fifteen minutes of pursuit, Thyra stopped at the small ridge of an embankment. At first Fili thought she was finally going to acknowledge him but that was quickly disproved as her dark eyes grazed out across the woodlands and he was bluntly ignored.

"You know it's usually decor–"

He was cut of when Thyra suddenly planted a firm hand to his mouth and pulled him down next to a tree. His back hit the bark, scratching at his arms as Thyra pressed next to him. Her eyes darted around and only moved to him when he let out a muffled protest.

Instantly her hand on his mouth pressed more firmly and her dark eyes looked at him warningly. The moment her hand went to her lips, he knew something was wrong. He stilled himself and tried to ignore their close proximity as Thyra went back to scanning the area with her sharp eyes.

All was silent and Fili was just about to question her when she suddenly let out a sharp whistle that mimicked a bird. As the sound echoed and died she waited one moment and whistled again, this time two quick chirps.

As Fili prepared to ask her what she was doing as she was giving away their position, a whistle coming from the south, followed by two quick chirps sounded. At the second chirp, Thyra moved quietly, her hand clamping around Fili's arm as she dragged him stealthily through the underbrush.

They came to an abrupt stop just before the foliage grew thicker and used the barrier of a fallen tree as coverage. Thyra carefully withdrew her sword from its place on her back and Fili suddenly cursed himself for following her with only a few daggers in his possession. He wasn't sure what had alarmed Thyra, but despite his unwillingness to trust her, he knew he could depend on her awareness. It was just a matter of what she was aware of that puzzled him.

Was it friend or foe?

There was a rustling and Thyra carefully peeked around the trees uprooted tendrils that hid them from view. Fili did the same just in time to see a dwarf cautiously walk out of the brush.

It was obvious he was doing his best to go undetected as he kept a sharp eye moving around but it was apparent that he had still yet to detect them. As he was about to step close enough to put them in his line of vision, Thyra moved her sword up, causing the male to stop abruptly as his eyes widened with surprise and his arms instinctively went up in surrender. She stepped out carefully, keeping her sword against the exposed skin of his neck as she revealed herself to him.

Fili watched from where he remained hidden as the males hazel eyes followed the swords razor edge to take in his captors face. The moment he looked into her face, recognition came to his face and his arms fell to his side as he relaxed.

"Mahal Thyra," he said in a deep baritone. "When I didn't hear a response call from my whistle I thought it was some sort of enemy trick. Shit, I thought you were an orc!"

Thyra sent him a smirk as she let her sword fall from his throat and returned it to its place on her back.

"Your mother will not like such words coming from your mouth," she said in what could have passed as a teasing manner. "She say you spend too much time with Habard."

Fili watched as the man gave her a grin that was eerily familiar but he could not place why. The stranger was taller than him, closer to his brother in height, than himself. With raven black hair tied back into a knot and a thick, but well trimmed beard to match. He was near his own age, perhaps a decade or two older.

Seeing that he was familiar with Thyra, and judging from the mention of Habard, the guild as well, Fili moved from his hidden space to stand next to Thyra. His earlier concern of being too close to her was somehow gone as he stood just far enough to leave a small space or air between their arms.

His movement caused the hazel eyed dwarf to move his amused attention from Thyra to Fili. Upon seeing him, his smile slightly faltered as his brow creased in slight confusion and something else that Fili assumed was possible defense.

The dark haired dwarf let his gaze run down Fili and he felt the man size him up before meeting his eye for a brief moment. Fili watched as the dwarf's eyes finished assessing him then moved back to Thyra quizzically.

"New recruit?" The man asked her. "Since when did you start traveling with newcomers?"

Fili was as not sure, but he thought he sensed a hint of jealousy in the man's voice as he questioned her.

"He is not new," she answered. "We are helping Thorin Oakenshield reclaim Erebor. This is his eldest nephew, there are thirteen other dwarves, gandalf, and a hobbit in the group. The guild travels north to meet us while Siggy and I go east through Mirkwood with them."

Her answer seemed to relax him as he looked back to Fili, a renewed, less threatened expression on his face. He stuck out his hand with a more open expression on his face.

"Prince Fili, I presume," the man said. "I have heard tales of your family. Your uncle especially, I have somewhat idolized him since I was a lad. I loved hearing stories of how he came to earn the name Oakenshield."

Fili nodded and slowly clasped his hand with the dark haired dwarf's, his grip tightening perhaps more than custom would call for but the man showed no acknowledgement to the extra strength.

"It is always a pleasure to meet someone who speaks highly of my family," Fili replied. "May I ask who you are?"

"I am Thrade," he answered. "I believe you met my mother, Asha?"

After their introduction, and he had recovered from the surprise fact that Asha had a son, Fili watched as Thrade moved his attention back to Thyra. He took in the blemishes and injuries that had still yet to heal. Bringing a hand to Thyra's face, Thrade grazed his knuckles across her bruised cheek as his eyes ran across her forehead to take in the large scab and purple, fading to green, bruise that surrounded it.

Fili's eyes narrowed and he could not help but disapprove of the gesture. It seemed too intimate and he felt Thrade should not be touching her in such a way. It was the caress that a dwarf would share with someone they showed affection for. And from what he had witnessed on the day of their departure, it seemed Thyra already had someone in which she shared affections, which rendered these actions even more inappropriate. In his opinion, Thyra was much too young to be receiving such affections...from anyone.

But what bothered him the most is that Thyra did not say anything to correct his inappropriate gesture. The only action she made was take a small step back to break the contact, but no words fell from her mouth. Fili frowned, she had at least said something to reprimand the man from the day of departure, so why was Thrade exempted from this same treatment? This only caused him to frown even more in disapproval.

The moment she stepped from his reach, Fili noticed Thrade's jaw tighten and he could not help but feel a small twinge of satisfaction of the rejection. It was a satisfaction that he justified with the fact that it had been an inappropriate gesture in social terms and that he was merely happy that propriety had been restored.

"Did that happen while returning with my mother?" he asked Thyra directly.

Thyra shook her head.

"Duel ring."

Thrade frowned.

"Again? Who was it this time? Meldrone? Farlin?"

Thyra rolled her eyes at the stern tone of his voice. "Asha made a wager with Thorin. I dueled one of his people."

With that, Thrade's eyes flashed accusingly at Fili.

"Where you the one she dueled?" he accused.

A snort sounded from Thyra causing both males to look at her.

"Feelig was not the one," Thyra answered. "You will know who it was when you see him, I left my own marks."

"Feelig?" Thrade asked in confusion looking to Fili. "I thought it was Fili."

"It is Fili," Fili confirmed, causing Thrade to look back to Thyra who only shrugged.

Again Thrade's hand went to Thyra's face, his hand taking her chin. He began tilting and moving her head to examine the bruises from different angles.

"They sure did a number on you. Since when did you start losing to other people in the ring?"

His tone was light but Fili could sense there was a deeper tone of concern he was attempting to conceal.

Thyra glared at him before she pushed his hand away from her face.

"I didn't," she mumbled lowly.

Thrade kept his gaze locked on Thyra as an affectionate, soft smile adorned his face.

"Of course you didn't. You can take care of yourself."

Fili did not miss the tone in which Thrade spoke. It was full of a strange sadness that did not seem to match the conversation. After Thrade received no response from Thyra and an awkward silence fell over them, Thrade seemed to realize that Fili was with them and watching their interaction closely.

He cleared his throat.

"Anyways," Thrade began as he looked between the two, "how exactly did the Guild end up being in service?"

"Long story," Thyra said, turning around and beginning to head in the direction of camp. "Come, Feelig can tell on the way."

Both men looked at each other and as they locked eyes there was a silent exchange of understanding. The two had a mutual dislike for each other.

However, despite Fili's feelings, he at least found it in himself to begin offering an explanation as they each followed after the wheat haired maiden. He was happy to find that he was able to easily cooperate with Thrade, no matter what is disapproval of the man's actions towards Thyra may be.

Fili had almost been concerned that his ability to easily work with others, no matter his personal opinion had been ruined. But it seemed that his discourteous behavior would remain reserved for Thyra and Thyra alone.

. . . . . . . . . . . .