Chapter 18: The Carrock Encounter

Asha lingered in the back of the assembled army as they traveled through the last mountain pass of their journey. It had been a grueling trek as they had made it through the mountain range, nearly twice as fast as it would normally take them.

Perhaps for a few it would not have been as difficult to achieve but the Guild was not just an army, it was a roving city. That meant shelters, livestock, trade shops, and wagon loads of provisions. And Asha had pushed them forward, taking the lead and setting a brutal pace for her people to follow. But then the group that had been sent down to the brown lands arrived she began to slow their pace and took up the rear of the caravan.

One week ago, the group had caught up with them. All of them safe, all of them well. All of them, except Thrade. Thrade was gone and no one knew where he was.

It had taken a forceful Habard to pull her away from the captain of the group when she had begun shouting. She was not one for violence against her own people, but Habard had seen her do things she did not normally do when under great stress. And the disappearance and unknown welfare of her son was enough to push her limits. So he took her away from the unfortunate captain, who had already received her verbal wrath, and attempted to soothe her ire.

Thrade often broke apart from his groups and ventured off on his own short quests. Each time he did this he usually came in a few days later, unharmed, and unaware of the distress that he had brought upon his mother. It was one of the things he had always done as a child and despite the many reprimands and punishments she had given him, he never learned and continued it to this day.

"We need to send out a search party for him," Asha quickly stated once Habard had distanced her from the majority of the group.

"We need to keep moving forward," Harbard argued. "We have made good timing but we still have quite a bit of distance to cover."

"Then you go a head, I will go look for him," she stated as she turned for a south bound walk.

She was stopped when he grabbed a hold of her arm. She twisted around to shoot him a glare that he had become immune to over the years.

"No you don't," he said firmly.

"Why not?" She growled out between her teeth.

"Firstly, because you need to lead your people," Habard provided as he held up a finger. "And secondly," he threw up a second finger, "Thrade does this all the time. He will be fine, I promise." When she failed to look completely sold on the idea, Habard added, "he will probably come waltzing into camp in a few days with a smile on his face and bearing gifts for you and Sigurd. Then he will start to seek out Thyra in hopes to finally woe the girl before he realizes that she and Sigurd are not even with us."

She knew Habard was right. They had witnessed the scene he had painted countless times. She herself could already predict the argument they would have when he found out who Sigurd and Thyra were with.

He would announce that he was going to meet up with them, she would tell him that they could be anywhere between the misty mountains and the mirkwood. He would say that he could track them and she would argue that they were all headed for the same place so he would be better off staying with the guild.

She smiled at the thought and gazed down the trail they had just passed through as if expecting Thrade to suddenly come running up the path.

Normally Habard's assurances would calm the urgency to back track and find her son, but there was something that felt different about this time. It was an inkling. An instinct that said her son was not going to do those things. Something within her whispered that Thrade would not be coming back this time.

And she had been right.

It had been a week since then and there was still no sign of Thrade. For what felt like the hundredth time that morning, she looked behind her; hoping, wishing to see her son wandering up the muddy path that the caravan had made. But like the other ninety-nine times she had looked, she was again disappointed.

"Do you still feel the danger?"

At the sound of Habard's concerned voice, she turned to look into the man's grey eyes. He had been inquiring of the feeling she had yesterday evening. It had come on so suddenly she had shivered at the sudden goosebumps that had formed on her arms as the hairs on the back of her neck prickled.

It was a strange phenomenon but she suddenly felt as if Thrade was in danger, that something sinister and dangerous was near him. But by midnight, the feeling had faded. And all morning she felt such a calming peace within herself that she thought she had imagined everything the previous night. For a moment she searched within herself, looking for any lingering evidence of the disturbance. When she failed to find any traces, she finally shook her head.

"No," she said steadily. "In fact, I feel as though everything is strangely okay, as if he has protection."

Habard seemed relieved by this news and his face relaxed as he nodded and put a steady hand on her shoulder.

"Trust that instinct, wherever he is, trust that he is in good hands.

Thorin and Thrade sat atop Landroval with their coats pulled tightly to keep warm from the cold air and wind that came with flying high in the sky. As promised, Gwaihir and several others of the convocation of eagles that resided in the cliffside eyrie, took the company onto their backs once more and took flight at first light.

The day was long and tiring despite their lack of physical exertion as they sat atop the brown and gold flecked feathers of the eagles. They flew high amongst the clouds, using the soft mountain peaks to hide them from curious eyes that could quickly become their enemy.

The sun was setting in the west by the time the eagles began to descend beneath the floor of clouds that had been the only thing visible for the entirety of the ride.

As they broke through the clouds, the colorless canvass was erased with a brilliant and sudden display of lush colors as they took in the topography. Rolling hills covered in purple cloves, variant greens of the different species of trees and plant life, and the iridescent flow of a river that meandered lazily through the grasslands. Towering above the colors, stood a high peaked rock formation. Its bottom half painted green while its grey rocky peak was left bare of foliage as it curled to a point.

"Carrock," Thorin heard Gandalf announce loud enough from his perch on Gwaihir's back who sailed next to his Landroval.

At the announcement, Landroval stretched out his large wings and slowed down their velocity enough to make a soft landing upon the rock formations top. Thorin and Thrade immediately slid down to the rocky ledge then moved away before Landroval flapped his powerful wings and with a mighty gust, took flight.

The space in which he left was soon filled by another eagle which deposited Fili and Kili. And like the night before, the company was slowly reunited a top the tower of rock as eagle after eagle unloaded their passengers. Gwaihir landed last with his back to the east as Gandalf and Bilbo slid down to join the rest of the company.

"This is as far as we venture Durin's heir," Gwaihir said as he looked at Thorin.

Thorin gave a grateful bow and the eagles neck twisted slightly to look at all of them.

"Farewell," he said, letting his eyes rest upon each of them, "wherever you fare, till your eyries receive you at the journey's end."

As the eagle gave a bow of his head and prepared to take flight, Gandalf stepped forward.

"May the wind under your wings bear you where the sun sails and the moon walks," he said on behalf of the company.

Gwaihir gave a screech of approval and with a gust of wind that set several of them off their feet, he took to the air. As his body rose, he revealed the skyline to the west and several astonished gasps escaped the lips of the dwarves.

Thorin felt his own lips part as he took in the sight. Green, with hints of the approach of autumn covered the lower half of the skyline. Above the trees and grasslands the sky was burnt red and orange as pale pinks blotched the median between the two colors. Between the two, between the sky and the earth, centered and standing alone, was the lonely mountain.

"Erebor," he heard Balin breath out religiously.

Thorin's heart sang at the sound of the glorious name of his home, his kingdom. The road so far had not been what he expected. He knew it would not be easy starting off, but it had certainly not played out in the way he visualized it. There had been too many unexpected appearances, too many life altering revelations, and more sinister things than he had predicted.

And he feared that there were many more to come.

But at the moment he could not let that bother him. Because before him sat the greatest sight he had seen in a long time. Home.

They spent the last of the days light descending the tall tower of Carrock then made camp at the bottom where the river provided them with fresh water and fish for their meal.

Fili and Kili were making their way back to camp by the guidance of the full moon after making a quick check of the perimeter before they turned in for the night. As they walked side by side, Fili noticed that something was off with his brother. He had been awfully quiet since the night before.

While they had had a close encounter with their hunters that could leave a person slightly rattled, Fili had an instinct that it was something else that bothered his younger sibling.

"What wisdom do you seek little brother?" He asked, slipping into their old ways.

It was a practice they had done for as long as Fili could remember. From the first time Kili wanted help with simple matters such as buckling his boots and how to tie a fish hook, to more serious matters such as understanding politics and weilding a weapon.

Ever since they were little, Fili discovered that his younger brother did not ask for help. Fili did not know why his brother refused to ask. He had his ideas but he was not certain.

For years he watched his brother struggle to learn things on his own. He had first asked it when they were still very young. For nearly an hour Fili watched as Kili struggled to hold his pencil correctly when working on their lessons.

It would slip when his grip was too loose while the tip broke when he pushed too hard.

It was then that the oddly phrased question fell from his mouth. He was not sure why he had asked it but it had worked, and with an invitation, Kili freely inquired how to properly hold his pencil.

Since then, all Fili had to do was provide an opening, an invitation, and like how a moth is unable to resist a flame, Kili could not resist those five words.

As if on cue, Kili let out a heavy sigh. "I cannot seem to get Siggy to understand the way I feel about her," he said as he rubbed the back of his head in frustration.

Fili frowned, he was hoping the issue would be something on another topic. In honesty any topic would have been better for a couple reasons. The first being that he did not have any advice to give on matters of the heart. He himself had limited experience, at least for anything along the lines of actual persule of courtship. The second being that he had hoped his brother had finally given up on gaining Sigurd's attentions and settled for good friendship.

He had thought that had been the case for the past few days when Kili had been spending not quite as much time with her. But alas, it seemed his brother had just been a little more subtle in his attempts to win her affections lately and had only been holding back to asses his tactics from afar.

"Perhaps you should not worry about her understanding...at least not yet." Fili quickly added when he saw his brother's posture seemed to deflate. He laid a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Right now you should stay focused on the quest at hand. There will be plenty of time for courtship when we had reclaimed Erebor."

"But will there be?" Kili inquired sceptically. Fili furrowed his brows and his brother explained further. "She is part of the Guild, what if after this, they leave and just disappear?"

Fili had no answer for him because he too had often wondered the same things. What would become of the Guild? Would they disband? Would they continue on? Leave and disappear? They had always been nothing but stories and rumors before, would they become that once again?

Part of the deal Asha had made with Thorin was to allow any dwarf that wished to become citizens would be welcomed. If so, would Sigurd be among that number? She did not seem to be one to travel with an army where violence and killing was part of their daily life. But she was attached to Asha. From what Fili had gathered, Asha and Thrade were the closest thing she had to a family throughout the majority of her life. Would she leave them for Erebor?

He did not think so, and if that was the case, it would only hurt his brother more. Kili was already far more attached to Sigurd than he had ever seen him fall for a maiden. What would become of his brother then?

"I know our journey is not the time for such things," Kili continued," but I cannot ignore my feelings. I have tried to keep them contained, but over the past weeks it is as if my mind, my body, and my heart cannot contain it anymore. It is like when a river becomes dammed up, at first the water will cease to flow, but eventually it will build up and overflow. Last night, before the eagles had come, I thought she had died, and I..."

Fili looked directly at his brother and met his eyes when his words faltered.

They had come to a stop next to a large oak tree that stood alone. The silver moon lit up their vicinity except for a darkened shadow caused by the great oak that stretched out alongside the path that led back to their camp. Where they had stopped, the moonlight was cast down directly onto Kili, giving every feature of his face the perfect lighting for Fili to see every emotion and feeling.

While it gave Fili a clear reading of his features, he almost wished that this night was a moonless night, for in his brothers face he saw a haunting anguish as Kili's eyes became glazed over as his thoughts seemed to replay the event.

"And what," Fili gently prodded, not liking to see the distress upon his brothers face.

"I don't know how to describe it," Kili said finally as he cast his eyes down to the ground in concentration. "But it hurt. Here," he said rubbing his chest. "In those few moments that I could not find her, it felt as if someone had run me through and left a gaping hole that did not kill me, it just left me empty. Standing, breathing, living, but soulless."

A shiver ran down Fili's spine as he tried to imagine such a thought. The movement caught Kili's attention and he looked back up at his brother. Fili frowned at the expectant look in his brother's eyes. He was not sure how to advise his brother. When Fili did not offer an immediate reply, Kili went on.

"I know you disapprove," Kili began and when Fili opened his mouth to disagree, he was stopped when Kili held up a hand. "I know you brother, you have always worried about me. I have seen you watching and disapproving since we began. I know it is not that you disapprove of Sigurd...how could anyone," he said with a wane smile, "But I know you disapprove because you fear that I will be hurt. That I will be heartbroken again. And perhaps this is how it will end and it will be painful. But it will at least be an end to this wondering of what could be."

He looked at Fili with an imploring need in his eyes.

"So please brother, if you have any wisdom, any advice on how to speak to her and get her to understand my true feelings, give it."

Fili looked at his brother with difficulty. He wanted to encourage him, he wanted to see him happy. But he found he could not look him fully in the eye, fearing that his brother would see the pity. For as much as Fili wanted things to end well, he had calculated it already in his head. Numerous times over the months and even now he reran the equation, unfortunately he ended up with the same answer every time.

"Declare to her you have feelings of romantic nature."

At the unexpected sound of Thyra's broken accent coming suddenly from their right, the two brothers startled and quickly shifted to look in the direction from where it came.

At first it was as if the voice had emitted from thin air, but then Fili caught the outline of her body.

She leaned against the oak tree they had just passed by, her back pressed against the rough bark of the oak as she lurked in the shadow it cast. The moment he located her, she pushed off from the trunk and took a few steps forward into the silver moonlight.

Her hair was damp and let loose from the usual binding and braids that kept it pulled back.

Now it tumbled down in segmented waves over her right shoulder. She wore a fresh pair of clothing and he noticed that the blood stains and colored paints that had been slowly flaking off throughout the day had been washed off as well. In addition the smudged black coal that had been painted across her eyes was reapplied to the standard thin outlining of her eyes. It was obvious that she had just finished bathing and while she had valid reason to seek one out, Fili could not help but question her actions.

"You should not wandering out here alone," he declared, his tone easily finding a sharpness that was fueled by the usual irritation that he felt whenever she managed to sneak up or around him. He did not like it. He did not trust it.

Thyra raised a brow at his tone.

"I was bathing."

"You could have taken Sigurd with you," he quickly replied back.

"Siggy sleeps" she said matter of factly. "And while I know of your perverse habits of spying…"

"That was an accident," Fili quickly defended, as he fought against the blush that tinted his cheeks at the memory. "Had we known you two were there we would have seen to your privacy."

Her head tilted to the side as she gave out an exaggerated sigh.

"And that brings us back to the beginning."

"You could have easily asked someone else to stand guard at a distance. Then while giving you the privacy you would have also had protection," Fili growled as he became more irritated with their banter.

"While I appreciate your concern," she said flatly, "I can take care of myself, Feelig."

At the addition of the nickname, Fili snapped. He glowered at her as his arms strained to stay at his sides. He was tired of her always having the upper hand and as he fought the urge to launch at her with violence. But then he was suddenly struck with a winning blow that would take no physical exertion.

"I would say the the events of recent occurrences would counter that argument," he said, eyeing the side of her abdomen that bore the burn marks that where hidden beneath her purple tunic.

The reaction to his words were instantaneous as the smirk that had appeared with his nickname quickly fell as her face flinched into a grimace. He had obviously struck the blow well as her face morphed into emotions he had never witnessed on her face.

Anger, yes he had seen. Annoyance, as a daily occurrence. But guilt and Shame? They were new. He could not say that the victory left him satisfied as the usual shine from her black eyes lost their luster. When he felt the slight nudge into his rib, he looked to his brother.

Kili looked at him with confused disapproval and immediately he understood the cause of his brother's reaction. It was not like him to intentionally hurt someone.

Thyra was a capable woman. He knew it because he had witnessed it many times. She had just been caught off guard and overwhelmed the other day. Most people would have most likely not escaped with their lives. It was not luck that had granted Thyra's ability to still be with them, it had been her skills.

He turned with great difficulty to apologize to her, but in the few moments that he had glanced away, Thyra had somehow recovered from from his words as she schooled her features to a blank face and looked to Kili.

"You should tell Siggy how you feel," she suggested with strong encouragement in her voice.

Kili quickly forgot about his brothers bad behavior and perked up at her words, eager to receive advice from a feminine perspective.

"I want to but every time I try I have gotten tongue tied and when I finally manage to form a sentence, she seems to mistake my meaning." Thyra let out a small amused laugh and let her crossed arms fall to her sides. As Kili continued to explain his predicament she slowly walked up to them. "I tried to tell her last night but I do not think she understood my meaning and before I could correct her, we were interrupted."

Thyra came to a stop when she stood a few feet away from them, her dark eyes surveyed him under intense scrutiny as she mused over a solution for his predicament.

"Kiss her," she said bluntly. "There would be no mistaking you intentions then."

Kili's ears turned red as he bashfully looked down at the ground and dug his toes into the ground. "I dunno," he said slowly.

Thyra's brow rose.

"Do not tell me you have never kissed a girl before," she said, her tone teasing but free of any hint of true mockery or judgment.

Kili flushed more.

"Of course I have...I just…" he shrugged. "What if she doesn't like it. What if I am a bad kisser."

Fili did his best to keep the groan from escaping his lips as he listened to his brother's juvenile worries. He never understood his brothers fascination to romance. While he too wanted to someday marry a woman he loved and raise a family with her, he knew there was a time a place for courtship. And a dangerous quest that could end in the death of not just one, but both participants of the desired courtship did not seem the appropriate time.

That was what separated him from his brother. Fili was always one to act on reason and sound thinking. Kili was driven and controlled by his emotions.

The sound of Thyra letting out another amused laugh caused Fili to break away from his musings to look at her. Her pearly teeth flashed in the moonlight as she smiled, almost kindly at his brother.

"You not worry about that," Thyra reassured. "I do not think Siggy has ever recieved a kiss, therefore whatever your skill, she will not compare."

At this piece of revealed information, Kili brightened, as if he were actually contemplating the idea. He flashed Thyra a wide grin of gratitude and with a confident spring in his step, he began walking back to the camp. Thyra moved to follow after but was stopped when she felt Fili's hand grasp around her arm.

The moment his finger curled around her appendage, Fili felt her stiffen. As she turned to look at him, all earlier merriment while speaking with his brother disappeared and was replaced with a stoney face. Her eyes stared into his for a moment before slowly drifting down to his hand where it wrapped around her bicep. They flashed back up to his face, a dark warning burning in her eyes.

"I would like a private word," he said, keeping his grip on her arm.

Thyra made a show to take in their surroundings.

"Are we not already alone?" she asked, causing his grip to tighten in his own warning.

"Listen to me very carefully Régínn, because I do not like to repeat myself," he began, ignoring her comment. "I would like to instruct you to stay away from my brother but seeing as how we are all comrades and travelers of the same company, that would be impossible. So instead I ask that you please refrain from encouraging my brother in pursuance to Sigurd."

He watched as a glint of confusion came to her face and she tilted it to the side.

"I had thought you one to have a great love for your brother," she said. Her tone had lost its usual mockery and instead, Fili was certain there was a tone of what could only be placed as disappointment.

"I am," Fili quickly defended. "I would do anything for him."

"Then why do you wish him to not be happy?" she asked curiously.

"I do want him happy, and that is why I ask that you do not push him towards Sigurd." When she lacked to show any understanding he went on. "I have watched Kili 'fall in love' over and over again. Most of the time they have been innocent crushes that he harbors for a week or so until another pretty face catches his eye or he loses interest when they turn out to be just that. A pretty face and a pretty face only. Each time he had been left disappointed that he had not found love. Normally I would not be against this as I have seen him recover easily enough. But Sigurd is different. Sigurd is beautiful, but she is also kind and gentle. I would be more than happy to see romance and love bloom between them. I believe they each would be well deserving as I know my brother would make it his life's mission to make her happy until his dying breath."

"Then why would you not want me to help?" Thyra queried, her voice still holding confusion.

Fili let out a snort of amusement at her question. There were many reasons why he did not want her to help his brother. He did not want her around his brother, let alone giving him advice. But the night was not long enough for such a list of reasons. So he stuck with the two that would cause the least amount of friction that could turn their discussion into a tournament of named offences.

"My first reason is because this is not the time nor the situation to be thinking of courtship," he began. "I want my brother safe, not distracted. When all of this is over, then perhaps he can pursue his desire of courtship, but until then, it is just a liability. Not just him but the entire company."

"I always thought that one betters themselves to protect those they care about." She contemplated out loud.

"They do. But they also become reckless," he countered. "I care about Sigurd, she is a good girl and I would not wish ill of her, but if I had to choose between my brother and her, I would choose him. I do not want him risking his life. Perhaps it is selfish, but it is an honest answer."

She bent down and picked up a twig from the ground that was laying down by her feet. As she seemed to mull over his words, she absentmindedly broke a small piece off and let it fall to the ground.

"We are all selfish when it comes to those we care about," she stated as she broke of another piece. "But sometimes the world demands more of others."

She paused for a moment as a piece of the twig failed to break away. She pulled and twisted the piece until the fibers separated and she let the last pieces of the twig fall down as he eyes trailed up to him.

"As a King do you plan to put the life of your brother above your subjects? I am curious, how many others would it take for it to be worth sacrificing your own blood?"

Fili frowned.

"We have already established that you do not think I will be a good king," he said rigidly. "And that subject has nothing to do with what we are speaking of."

Thyra shrugged, "Very well, you said that was your first reason, you have more?"

As always her dismissive attitude irked him, but his desire of change in topic out weighed his annoyance and he willingly took the offer to move away from his already insecure thoughts of being a Durin heir.

"My second reason is because I do not see Sigurd ever returning her feelings to my brother. She is hopelessly in love with Thrade. And from my foresight, I do not see her giving up on that even though his eyes wander to someone else," he said, his eyes settled on her as if accusing her that it was her fault the his brother's love was doomed.

Thyra's eyes narrowed.

"What Siggy feels for Thrade is not love. She is nieve of the true meaning. She has never had the opportunity to experience it." Thrya defended. "She has had many suitors but none worthy, none willing to try. They do not believe themselves able to rise to his level. Thrade is an accomplished man. A dwarf of a lost royal line, a warrior, a leader. But he is not right for Sigurd."

"And you think Kili is?"

"Perhaps," she stated her tone taking on indifference as she shrugged. "But it is not for us to decide, only they can know that," she added as she sent him a knowing look.

Fili shook his head, "And what if only one of them believes it but the other does not."

"Then they will get over it," she said in a tone that seemed tired.

Fili looked at her with disbelief.

"That is it? He will get over it?"

He took a step forward so that they stood toe to toe as he stared down at her. The top of her head not even reaching his shoulder.

"From what I have observed from you, I can see you lack regard for other people's feelings. Whether it was the negligence of your parents to teach things such as manors or if it is a genetic trait of you Régínn to possess impassive hearts with an inability to care, it is different for me, for us. We here in the west do not take pleasure in seeing our loved ones hurt. Therefore I ask you again, to not interfere with my brother's feelings."

Thyra said nothing as she looked up at him, meeting his eyes with her own. When he finished speaking, Fili kept looking into the deep pools of abyss that were her eyes as he waited for her reaction to his words.

When she showed him nothing, he then waited for a response. As no surprise, but still to his irritation, she gave none. Instead she took a step back, then another, her eyes staying focused on him until finally, she turned and began to walk back towards the camp.

Fili clenched his fists and stiffened his back as he took in a deep preparing breath.

"Swear to me that you won't speak of the subject any more with him," Fili demanded firmly, causing Thyra to stop in her tracks.

She slowly turned on her heal, first her body, then finally her head, her dark eyes glinting with a deep warning.

"A Reginn does not give promise to things so freely," she stated coldly. "I only makes vows for what I believe in. You ask something of me that I do not believe in, you insult me with a demand of my word. So I will give you a promise Feelig, but not the one you ask. I promise to do all that I can to aid your brother in his quest. Whether it be successful or not, I will not refuse to offer him any help that I can."

Sigurd's idea of a desirable and beautiful woman had always been drawn in the image of Asha. Ever since she had been old enough to acknowledge the notion of attraction, she knew that Asha held every aspect. In a physical sense, she was the kind of beauty that people wrote poems and ballads for. Her bone structure was proud and noble, yet still held soft lines that made her seem elegant and refined. Even with her collection of years, she held few signs of her true age. Her hair was still vibrant with color and her skin smooth and free of minimal scars. And the few scars that marked her body only seemed to elevate her beauty. They were a testament to the strength that she possessed within.

What was within Asha was what Sigurd was truly envious of. Words could not begin to describe the beauty that Sigurd coveted that was within Asha. Her ability to lead without seeming to be above others. The kindness and love that she held for all the people under her care. The kindness and love that she had shown to Sigurd. The ability to make Sigurd feel as though she was worth something when even her own mother at most only showed indifference to her.

It was that ability that Sigurd had always coveted most and strived for. It was one of the many reasons why Sigurd had taken up the practice of healing. She wanted to care for those who needed it. She wanted to give people what they needed most to survive in the world that she lived in. Sigurd did not like violence, she had always been a pacifist, but that was not an idealism that could be easily practiced within the guild.

Asha had once offered to help Sigurd settle into a peaceful town but the idea of leaving her home immediately caused her to refuse. While she did not like war or contention, the healing and kindness that she wanted to offer was most needed by those who came and fought in the Guild. So it was for that reason, among others, that she had stayed.

Sigurd was not as naive as most people seemed to think, nor was she as oblivious. She knew that many of the males, and a few females of the Guild found her appearance attractive. She also knew of that population, many had and still did vie for her attention.

Though she knew these things to be true as any other facts of life. What she did not know or understand was why.

While others, both old and young had praised her beauty, she herself could never quite see herself as the memorable beauty that others painted her to be. Perhaps it was an extreme case of humble modesty, but Sigurd did not see it.

Physically she felt herself could be considered attractive. She knew that the contrast between her dark hair and cornflower irises were striking. The physically demanding life within the guild kept her leaner that what some would deem the ideal image of a dwarrowdam, but she kept on enough weight to give her some curves that most of the shield maidens of the Guild, such as Thyra, seemed to lack. But that was the extent to Sigurd's ability to see what others saw and it seem shadowed when compared to her weaknesses.

She was horribly shy around most people and she lacked confidence. These where two facts that Sigurd knew about herself, and she felt that if she could easily spot these traits as flaws, then it had to be obvious to others. Yet, she still managed to catch the eye of several young dwarves that she had to persuade to let go of such hopes.

She knew it broke their hearts, it went against the love and kindness she always wanted to provide to others, but it would have been unfair to them had she not. The kind of love they had wanted from her was not one she could give with sincerity. For that one love had always been reserved for the one dwarf that had never even seemed to consider possibly returning her affections.

Thrade.

She had only ever had eyes for him. It started out as just a crush, as her brothers friend he had always been around and had always been kind to her. After Hane died, Thrade had taken it upon himself to fill the duties of brother in his friend's absence. He had always been there for her. But how Asha was not her mother, Thrade was not her brother. Try as they did to care for her and nurture her, Sigurd could never see them as the roles that others would.

As they grew older, the crush she held for him had become more solidified. At first she thought that perhaps she was finally seeing him as a brother but then one day she realized that it was not the love of a sibling. It was a different love she had not experienced before. Since that day, she had always hoped for the day that he too would experience a revelation similar to hers and upon that day he would make his feelings of affection for her known.

But time went on and he gave no indication that he harbored any feelings that went beyond deep friendship. She had once hoped it was because she was not of age yet, but then Thyra arrived and everything changed. It was not instantly, but after the third year of Thyra's servitude to Asha, Sigurd noticed the change in which Thrade acted around her. She saw the way he looked at her with so much longing in his eyes and the way his touches lingered on her skin.

She had been angry and jealous of Thyra when she first realized Thrade's feelings and she had acted out.

For several weeks she had refused to talk to Thrya beyond monosyllabic words. And when she did speak them, she always made a point to speak them in Westron. She was angry that Thyra had gained so easily what Sigurd longed for. But what had made her even more upset was that Thrya disregarded Thrade's obvious advances for her affections.

While Thyra was well versed in the art of hiding her feelings, Sigurd had spent enough time around her that she had learned that there was one thing that Thyra could not mask. And that was her eyes.

Sigurd had seen the hurt, confusion, and even the betrayal written in the younger dwarrowmaid's eyes. But Thyra had never confronted Sigurd about it. And as much as Thyra lacked in companionship around the camp, Thyra continued to speak with her and work alongside her even while she gained no responses. It was petty, and not one of Sigurd's proudest moments. Eventually, Sigurd managed to get over her jealousy and was able to make amends with Thyra. She never told Thyra the reason why she had tried to ostracize the Régínn and Thyra never asked.

Thyra had still yet to show any signs of returning Thrade's feelings. Whether out of consideration to Sigurd's own feelings, which Sigurd was certain Thyra knew of, or for other reasons. Whatever the reason, Sigurd was relieved she would not have to watch from afar while the love of her life found love with someone else.

Despite this, it did not make things any easier.

Sigurd still harbored her feelings and while she knew Thrade would never return such feelings, she could not let them go. So it was with a heavy heart that Sigurd came to the conclusion that she would never be able to have a partner in her life. It was a heartbreaking conclusion, for Sigurd had always dreamed of a fairy tale ending. One where she would someday be the recipient of another's heart that she could give her own heart to without any pause or hesitation.

. . . . . . . . . . .