Chapter 20: The Peer Gynt Encounter: Part II

A week went by and things had settled down. As the group began to drift off into their beds after yet another day of trekking, Fili climbed to the top of the large rock formation that the group had made camp next to, using its hollowed out bottom to provide cover from prying eyes. Not long after he settled down to start his shift as first watch, he heard Thyra making her way up the rocks side to keep watch as well.

It was their seventh night taking the first watch together and their sentence had yet to be lifted by Thorin. After the fourth night the heated hatred died down as well as their rashes, welts, and contusions. For the last half of the week they spent their shifts in silence and slightly distanced. Perhaps it was not what Thorin had in mind when he wanted them to be paired together, but in Fili's mind, it was the best they could give him.

So it was a surprise to him when Thyra settled down next to him with her body positioned in the opposite direction to watch the other side of their surroundings. With her face set forward to stare out into the grassy plain that surrounded them, she crossed her legs and began to monitor for any signs of danger. Surprised by her violation of what he had thought to be a mutual agreement to keep their distance from each other, Fili gave her a inquiring look. Thyra caught sight of him from the corner of her eye and looked at him more directly.

"Why are you sitting here?" He asked while eyeing the minimal space that she had left between them.

Her head tilted to the side in contemplation then she shrugged. Silence fell upon them as they each looked out into the surrounding areas as they scanned their retrospective sections. A warm breeze rustled the dried long grass that covered the majority of the plain they were currently crossing. With it, the chirp of crickets filled the air and Fili caught sight of the occasional flicker of a fireflies luminescent light as it glided lazily in the darkness.

"Your lightening bugs are strange creatures," Thyra suddenly said.

Fili looked back to her in time to watch her reach out a hand and catch a firefly. Her fingers swiftly, but gentle cured around the insect, caging it in with her fist. For a moment its light was snuffed out. Raising her hand to her face, she slowly uncurled her fingers too peek inside. The light of the firefly seeped through the cracks in her fingers and illuminated her face in a faint glow.

There was a soft smile of appreciation on her lips as she stared down at it, her eyes mesmerized by the insects ability to create light. It was such an innocent and pure expression. Fili was reminded of having the same childlike awe when he had first seen them in his younger years. But the novelty had worn off when they became a common sighting during the summer time. The concept of being so enthralled by something as simple as a firefly in the summertime seemed foreign and strange now. But he supposed everything about Thyra was just that. Foreign and strange.

"You do not have them in the east?"

He saw her shake her head and then open her hand fully to let the firefly dance away. Her eyes followed its trail until it blinked out. With nothing to watch, she turned her head and looked at him.

"We do not have very many gentle creatures in my home lands. They died off long ago from predators." She said it so casually that it seemed like a simple fact of life than a dark reality. "Those that survived have become just as dangerous. They only bring darkness now."

Fili was not sure if she was speaking poetically or in actual literal terms but he did not linger on the possibilities. Instead his mind wandered to something else. Her statement about the lack of gentle creatures in her homeland was similar to the fate of Usalaag's creatures. It was evidence of the truth behind her stories.

As he was reminded of the story he felt a grim frown pull at his bottom lip.

"Do you really think I am like your foolish turtle? Selfish and unworthy of a crown?"

He watched as she slowly blinked then looked out across the flat lands around them.

"I never said you were like the turtle" Thyra replied plainly.

"But you call me Feelig because you think I am like him," Fili accused. "You said it yourself. That you did not think I would be a good king. Remember...back in the guild."

"You read too much into its meaning. It is a tale told to entertain small children. Nothing more." She said in a tone of finality, but then she looked at him curiously. "Why do you care so much about what I think? I am not your people."

Fili pondered her question. Why did her opinion matter? All his life he had been praised for his behavior and accomplishments. He received top marks during his tutelage and school years. He was a strong fighter, more skilled with a blade than those his age and experience. And he knew that people looked up to him. Many times he heard people utter their praise to his mother or Thorin about how they looked forward to the day he took up his role as heir to Thorin.

These things he knew to be true. They were not just a delusion from an inflated were simple facts of life, measured by good marks, awards, and opinions of those above him. Yet somehow, despite this knowledge, the single opinion of someone he could barely identify above a stranger countered all of that.

"You are honest and unblinded by the reputation of the Durin name," he admitted.

Thyra looked at him without speaking for a long while. She then nodded as if accepting his answer then focused on watching their surroundings.

"I only call you Feelig because of the trolls," she said quietly.

Fili twisted his head to look at her, a befuddled expression on his face. "The trolls?" He asked in confusion.

"When you were lying on your back with that look on your face after knocking you down, it reminded me of the turtle at the end of the first saga. Laying on his back and wriggling around." Thyra explained, her attention remaining focused on the grassy land around them. There was a pause in conversation before Thyra spoke again. "I never thought you fully comparable...but...perhaps there are more similarities between you and Feelig now that I think about it."

He glanced towards her to see her look at him with contemplation.

"Feelig is not remembered as Feelig the foolish turtle. He is identified as a different creature," Thyra said informatively. "Usalaag appeared to him in a vision while he coward in his shell. The upturned turtle called out for help but Usalaag believed him unworthy since he had failed to help the other creatures. He told him that he would have to venture from his shell in order to save not only his people but himself. Otherwise he would die of starvation. Feelig said he was too afraid for his life and while starvation threatened him, he was adamant in his decision by the fact that his life would be extended far more by starving for weeks instead of becoming a predators meal the moment he left his shell. So Usalaag made him a promise that if he left his shell he would not let him die. It was only with this promise that Feelig finally ventured from his refuge." She paused, then gave him an expectant look. "Can you guess what happened to him?"

"He climbed the mountain," Fili guessed as he wondered why she was telling him the next part of the story. It felt strange exchanging words with her. Especially considering how they were managing to have a, dare he say, civil conversation.

"No," Thyra answered bluntly. "A flock of ravens swooped down and tore at his legs and body as they feasted upon his flesh. They took the meat from his ribs leaving him looking wiry and skinny. His head became more narrowed and his tail stretched out to the likeness of a whip. His legs were pecked and shortened so that his belly drug along the ground when he walked on the bloody stubs that remained."

"This is a tale you tell children?" Fili asked as he cringed at the unexpected turn of events. Then unaware that he had become enwrapped with the story, Fili remembered her earlier words. "Wait, I thought Usalaag said he would not let him die?"

"He did," Thyra agreed. "And he kept his promise. Feelig did not die. He was left bloody and wounded but not dead. His once long and limber legs now small stubbles and his body had become long and stretched from when he had been fought over by two ravens. He was gravely wounded but he survived."

"So what happened then?" Fili prodded curiously.

Thyra flashed him a knowing smile but did not answer his question. Instead, she asked her own.

"Do you know what happens when skin is exposed to the sun for too long?"

Not knowing what this had to do with the story but willing to go along with her tangent, Fili nodded.

"I have had my fair share of sunburns."

Thyra smirked.

"I do not speak of something so incidental as blemished skin. For seven days in the hottest week, of the driest summer, Feelig laid out in the sun. His flesh burned black and cracked. Blood flowed from where it cracked from the harsh sun staining a red pattern against the blackened skin. Where most things would have died, Feelig survived and Usalaag's promise became a curse to the pitiful creature."

"By the end of the week Feelig was no longer recognizable as a turtle nor did he exist as a turtle. He was now a lizard. Course skin covered his body and he suffered for many days as he called out to Usalaag for death. Usalaag came again in a dream but he did not take pity. He told Feelig that he must suffer for his years of slothfulness and now for his cowardice. He told the lizard that he would need to transform himself into a creature that would be worthy of such a calling in life. Feelig proclaimed his task impossible because he could not move his legs for the pain was too unbearable. But again Usalaag gave him no pity and instead told him to find a way to overcome his crippling weakness then left."

"So what did Feelig do?"

Thyra looked at him with a tilted head. "I never thought you to be one intrigued by fairy tales."

Fili paused for a moment. She was right, he had never believed in such nonsense. Even as a child, when his mother would recite their own cultures tales to him and his brother, he had always thought himself too grown for such things. Yet here he was as an adult, eagerly listening to a story like the children it was meant for.

"I'm not," he quickly defended before shrugging and adding offhandedly. "I am just bored."

Thyra raised a brow then shrugged and faced back towards the dark landscape. Silence fell between them. Fili fought the initial urge to inquire again but soon found himself obsessing over the unknown ending and prodded Thyra.

"So are you going to finish or not?" He asked.

Thyra turned her head and studied him carefully. Then finally spoke. "No," she replied. When he gave her an annoyed look of puzzlement, she turned back to the night. "Perhaps another night."

The rest of their watch went by quickly and the moment their shift ended and the next pair had been woken, they began to make their way back to their bedrolls. Fili's was just slightly farther away from the rest of the group on account of the putrid smell of skunk that still lingered on his blankets. Just as they were about to split ways, Thyra's quiet voice caused him to pause.

"Boil spruce wood and wash your blankets in it. It will help with the smell," she said before walking off without waiting for a response.

Fili stood and watched her walk to her own bed roll and lay down to rest. Confusion plagued him as his mind tried to understand the puzzle that was Thyra. But no answers came to him by the time he reached his bedroll. His thoughts were lost as he laid his head down to rest as he quickly fell asleep, a blessing as the rancid smell of skunk nearly made it unbearable to remain in his blankets. His last thought before falling into a deep sleep was to seek out some spruce first thing in the morning.

Since their first civil conversation there was a change in their interaction. While day time was not much of a change, aside from the absence of biting remarks and dirty looks, it was their nightly routine that had changed.

Each night they would sit next to each other. Each one positioned facing the opposite way to ensure all directions were being watched. And with each night they sat in each other's company, they became at more ease in each others company. For what had started as an unbearable punishment, it had become pleasant and relaxed. While still not friends, they were no longer enemies.

By the third night of their changed interaction, Fili became aware of the calmness that Thyra seemed to bring about when she was not glaring or giving out biting remarks. There was something about the air around her. It was refreshing and supposed he had not noticed it until now because he had always kept her at a distance until now. It was on the fifth night into their civil routine that he discovered the source when he took notice of her habit of chewing on mint leaves.

Fili had yet to fully throw all his previous cautions to wind and in return, he found that Thyra seemed to not have any more interest in him as before. But despite their lingering old feelings, they had found a mutual agreement. During the day most would think nothing had changed between them aside from the lack of outward aggression. But during the night when they were alone, they came together and whether it was out of duty to keep the company safe or something else entirely, they developed a strange bond.

Most nights were quiet. Neither of them bothering to break the peace that they had found with each other. So during these nights Fili often found his thoughts wandering to the future. More specifically his future as heir. What could or could not happen. What may or may not be. What he could succeed at or possibly fail at.

"You are troubled tonight, last night as well." Thyra commented, breaking the stillness of the night. She turned her head to look at him. "Already burdened by the weight of a crown before it has even been placed on your head?"

How Thyra managed to know the theme of his thoughts was beyond him. She was right, of course, he had been thinking of the burden of being Durin's heir. As of late he had been feeling inadequate. Whether it was Thyra's declaration a few months ago or her pondering of similarities between himself and the turtle ...the lizard ...Feelig.

He hated that a fictional story and the opinion of a single person could so easily sway his confidence but it was true. He had always strived to be the best and while everyone praised him for his efforts and skills he never truly felt that he was fit to be heir. Fili was no fool, he knew how lineage worked. He was heir because he was Thorin's sister's son. He was the closest male relative. It was because of this knowledge that when Thorin officially proclaimed him heir, Fili swore to himself that he would do all he could to be the best. To be worthy of the crown because of himself, not his blood.

Thorin had always praised him for his efforts and assured him that he was getting better. But yet he had been sucked into a skirmish with Thyra to which he had been chastised like the child he was behaving like. He had always been critical of himself but Fili had fooled himself into confidence when Thorin had asked him to join him in his quest to reclaim Erebor. For the first half of their journey his confidence had continued to grow. But now he realized that was perhaps his ego growing and not his potential. With that revelation, recent doubt had slunk back into his mind.

He wanted to blame Thyra as always, but for the first time he felt that urge wane away. He had no one but himself to blame. He had played his own part in getting caught by the trolls. He had sent the nervous hobbit to retrieve the ponies when it was he who had been charged with keeping an eye on them. It was he who had played the first of many petty pranks exchanged between him and Thyra. And it had been he who had started the fight from several days ago. It was just as Thyra had proclaimed, he was no king, he was a turtle, a shriveled lizard unable to bare the burden placed upon them.

"What makes you think I am bothered?" He asked. Part of it was instinctive defense but another part of him was genuinely curious as to how she knew.

"You cannot keep you right leg still when you are agitated." She commented causing Fili to suddenly become aware of his vigorously bouncing knee.

He quickly stilled his leg with his hand and looked at her. Previously he had always thought her eyes cold and menacing but this time he finally saw something different as he looked into her onyx orbs. There was a knowledge held in her eyes. Knowledge gained by experience that someone of even his age should not have gone through.

"Have you always been so observant?"

Her mouth twitched at his avoidance to confirm that she was right but she shook her head.

"It is something I have learned in more recent years." She gave him a tilted look, her dark eyes riveted on him. "What bothers you?" she asked, reversing the subject of conversation back to him instead of herself.

Fili had never admitted his insecurities to anyone. Never his brother or mother, not even Thorin. Yet when she asked, he found himself easily spilling his deepest secrets.

"Thorin does not have any children," he began, not catching the odd look in Thyra's face at his words as he stared down at his hands. "As the closest male blood relative to him, I am the heir. But sometimes I feel inadequate. I am only heir because he has no children of his own. I am Thorin's heir by circumstance not by choice. I gained this title because of who I was born to not for anything I have done."

Thyra let out a snort.

"What?" Fili asked, frowning at the humor she was finding at his most vulnerable worries.

"Our worlds are just different, that is all."

"How so?"

"The throne is not passed down to the most direct descendant of the Régínn. They are chosen and gifted by their predecessor. Second sons, granddaughters, people of no blood relation…." she drifted off as her thoughts seemed to become preoccupied.

Fili's brow cinched at the idea. "So there is no royal family? No one bloodline?"

Thyra looked down and traced the black lines inked on her arm. "There is bloodline...and family. But not always. There was once many."

Her words were becoming harder to understand as her accent grew thicker in her struggle to convey the concept. Fili caught the frustration in her face when he could only look at her in confusion.

"It different," she sighed out finally, giving up on clarifying any more. "That is all."

Fili thought it better than to prod any further seeing as she was already agitated. He was growing to like this new change in their interactions. A somber silence fell between them. Fili was not feeling any less burdened by his thoughts, and he could tell by the far away stare Thyra had in her eyes, she too had something heavy on her mind. To what the cause, he was not sure but he found himself wondering if it was something more than the simple struggle of communication.

He thought about her predicament and wondered how truly different her home was from here. He did not know much about the east. And what little he had heard, had been so unfathomable he could not believe the stories to be true. Elves that had bred with the fell of the earth so frequently that they had become more orc than elf. Foul beasts that made the evil that lurked within middle earth quake in fear. Winged beasts that drank the blood of the living and demons that crawled from the cracks beneath the earth's surface to pull their victims back to the dark depths from whence they came. There was no denying Thyra was strong and skilled. Given her size it made her power even more admirable.

"Feelig did not remain a lizard for long," Thyra suddenly said breaking Fili from his thoughts.

Caught off guard by her sudden change of topic, it took a moment for Fili to process what she had said.

"When Feelig realized that death would not come, he decided that since there would be no end to his suffering, he could at least try to end the suffering of others," Thyra continued. "He began to walk on his bloody stumps...

Each step was excruciating pain, as if the ground was littered with molten iron and broken glass. By the time he reached the base of the mountain, three days had already passed by. Looking up at the great height of the mountain, Feelig realized that while in his condition he would not be able to make it to the top in in time to save the others. His burnt skin was too charred to give him proper movement for climbing. His limbs were too stiff to stretch, too short to reach, and the pain that he felt in his feet was too much to bare his weight.

There was also another problem.

The predators had heard tell of the mighty creator who lived on top of the mountain. During the time that Feelig had hidden in his shell, the gentle creatures that managed to escape their killers, had lost hope in their king and took it upon themselves to attempt the ascent of the great mountain. So the wolves and bears, the hawks and eagles, all moved up to the mountain side where they stood guard and hunted any beast that tried to summit the mount.

Immediately, Feelig felt hopeless and he was tempted to return to his shell. But he caught sight of what was left of his subjects, their curious eyes peering out from the rocks and tree roots that they had hidden themselves under. He saw the pity in their eyes for his hideous appearance and he saw the disappointment they had in his lack of ability. But worst of all, he saw their regret for ever making him their king.

Feelig crawled to the edge of what once used to be the shimmering pond from once he reigned. Now it was only a dry bed of rocks that served as tombstones for the fish that once swam in the life giving water.

In the middle was a small puddle, murky and brown. It was all that was left of the once grand pond. Within the water he caught his reflection and with horror in his eyes, he took in the hideous creature that he had become.

Usalaag's words came to his mind, reminding him that he would need to change himself. As he gazed into the reflection to look upon the unrecognizable face that looked back at him, Feelig pondered the meaning behind Usalaag's command. Had he not already changed?

As he looked into the pool, he noticed that his black skin had grown ashy in spots. He raised an arm and scratched at the spot. It peeled away to reveal a shiny patch of black beneath. It was smooth and where the crusted blood had once bled, there was an intricate flash of red. It was striking against the ebony that colored the rest of the new layer of skin.

Feelig was reminded of the beautiful shell that he once proudly carried on his back. Turning his head to admire the patch from a different angle, Feelig caught sight of another spot of flaky skin. He scratched it only to find the same hidden beauty beneath.

Suddenly, Feelig was struck with an idea and began to rub more vigorously at all of his body.

Where his stubby arms could not each, he rubbed against the bed of rocks that surround the area. He rubbed his head, and he rubbed his tail. He lay on his back and wriggled around, turning over to rub his belly across the course stones. Soon the hard blackened skin that was once course and stiff, began to peel off. Layer after layer, Feelig shed his skin until his entire body was sleek and smooth. His skin was was still black but it shined with a new gloss as his smooth scales reflected the sun's heat.

Taking a step towards the pond to see his reflection again, Feelig was suddenly reminded of his painful legs that were now useless to him. Long ago, before he was a lizard and before he was a turtle, his legs were his most prized possessions.

As a frog he had bound from place to place, leaping and jumping spectacular distances by the aid of his powerful muscles. Now as he looked upon them, shortened and unusable, he felt hot tears of remorse for how far he had fallen. Had he not been so lazy in his years as a turtle he could have easily jumped up to the top of the mountain.

With a remorseful cry, Feelig bit his legs off. One, two, three, and finally with a great snap, he ripped his final leg off, leaving him to lay flat on his belly.

At first Feelig only wiggled around like a worm after a rainstorm, but after familiarizing himself with his new body, he was able to move forward. Smooth and fluid like the ripples of water did he move. With great speed, Feelig was able to travel swiftly through the lands until he had finally reached the base of the mountain.

Changed and humbled, Feelig was determined to become the king that his subjects needed. And thus was the end of Feelig the crippled lizard, for now, he was Feelig the snake.

"Now you know the second part of Skjaldbaka, eðla, og snákur" Thyra finished. "Feelig: The Humbled."

"And I do not suppose you will be offering the ending tonight?" Fili mused with a hint of humor in his voice.

Thyra's mouth curved to one side. "No, not tonight."

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