Chapter 21: The Bear Encounter: Part I

"Why don't you like to talk?".

Fili posed the question during the second week since Thorin had decreed that he and Thyra would be sharing shifts every night for an undetermined amount of time. It was strange, but it no longer felt like a punishment. They were still not friends, but Fili had to admit that there was a shift between them. They hardly talked, mostly because at the beginning Fili had wanted nothing to do with her. But as time went on and tension softened, Fili began to wonder more and more about the Régínn girl whose presence was becoming more familiar with each night.

Thyra looked up from the green mint leaf she was holding between her fingers and looked at him thoughtfully. Fili watched as her eyes seemed to suddenly, glaze over as if lost in thought.

It was only for a moment, for when she blinked, they returned to their previous deep contemplation. She tilted her head then shifted her crossed legs and leaned forward on her thighs, her eyes vigilant as ever as they peered out into the darkness.

Quiet fell on them and Fili moved his attention back to his own side of the perimeter to watch, a small flicker of his old feelings of annoyance warming within him. He still did not like her blatant ignoring.

"Would you like to play a game?" she suddenly asked, breaking the silence.

Her question caught him off guard. Despite the fact she had ignored his own question, he had not expected her to speak at all. And to extend an invitation for a game was even more unexpected. He looked at her warily. Wondering if she were being serious, or if she were about to spit out a traditional Thyra abrasive remark that always left the air cold and uncomfortable, Fili decided his curiosity was worth being irked if it was a trick.

"What kind of game?" he asked suspiciously. "I don't see you for one to play games," he said, then added as an afterthought. "Except perhaps the quiet game."

She smirked. "I don't know of this quiet game," she replied. "But I like how it sounds. You will teach it?"

Fili raised an eyebrow. "Now?"

Thyra shook her head. "Later. Now we play my game," she commanded, leaving no room to argue.

Fili adjusted himself by slowly turning himself to more directly face her. "Ok, but you still haven't told me what game we are playing."

"Answer for question," she answered.

"Answer for question," Fili repeated

Thyra nodded. "You know?"

Fili shook his head.

"We exchange questions. You ask, I answer, then we switch. I ask, you answer. Second person gets two questions in a row. Then the original person gets two," she explained as if giving a battle plan before a raid. "You understand?"

Fili nodded but then paused. "What if we don't want to answer? What if you ask me a question and I don't want to answer the question?"

"Then you don't get to ask a question and the game is over," she explained. "You give answer in exchange for question. Therefore, it depends on how much you want answers in return. If person answer your question, then you must answer. Each person gets the same amount. You understand?" she repeated again, her tone still instructional but wavering in patience.

Fili nodded, his interest peaked with the idea that Thyra would play such a game. In a way, she was offering to open up to him and he could get some answers.

"Who goes first," he asked.

Thyra pointed to him. Fili took that as his answer and thought for a moment. There were so many options. He was not sure where to begin. As his mind searched his earlier question that started this discussion came to mind.

"Why don't you like talking with other people?" he asked curiously. "I see you watching people converse and it's obvious that you have things to say but I rarely see you speak them. You speak more often out of necessity rather than leisure...why is that?"

She was quiet for awhile and Fili was beginning to think Thyra was rethinking playing the game. But then she cocked her head to the side and he realized she was actually contemplating her answer.

"I like to speak. But in my own language," she finally answered. "Westeron is not a language spoken by my home land. I speak...spoke," she corrected herself, "little when I came here. Siggy teach me but I still make mistakes. I don't like it...people think me slow. While their ignorance gives me an advantage, I dislike not being able to communicate properly. I feel like fool, so I choose to limit."

Fili stared at her as she confessed her answer and the reality of it sunk in.

Thyra was insecure.

This little fact left him baffled. She had always seemed so confident but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. There were only a few occasions when he heard her speak more than only a sentence or two. And when she did, there were langued pauses before giving answers or speaking to someone. When she did this, he had always thought she was debating on if she wanted to bother conversing or not. But now he realized, she was translating her response and trying to avoid errors.

"If your people do not know the common language, how did you learn it?" He asked as he recalled Asha telling them that she had already known to speak it when she had met her.

He did not know much about the East. But he had always thought the common speech was universal, but then again, perhaps it was called westron for a reason. When his questions ceased from his mouth, he continued to look at her as he waited for an answer but she merely shook her head.

"That is not how the game works," she stated. "One question, one answer."

Fili let out a sigh and nodded.

"My turn," she said, bringing his attention back to her. She waited for a moment as if to ponder what question to ask. Fili knew the moment she had selected one because her head tilted to the side and she let her eyes run up and down him. "What is your favorite food?"

The simplicity of the question threw him off. Unsure as to why she would request such a simple thing, he easily answered it.

"My mother's fresh apple turnovers with a sprinkle of cinnamon sugar and caramel."

Her nose seemed to wrinkle but she quickly seemed to get over her disgust when she asked her next question.

"Why do you dislike Thrade?"

Her blunt interrogation took him off guard.

"I donー" he stopped himself mid protest when Thyra gave him a look.

He was not sure how she knew, but somehow she seemed to have picked up his hesitancy of the man. It really should not have surprised him with it being Thyra, but Fili had been completely accepting to Thrade. He conversed and sparred with him. Thrade was just like all of his friends back in the blue mountains...yet...he let out a sigh and ran a hand through his hair.

"He is a good man," Fili stated. "A good fighter, treats those around him with respect and kindness…"

"But…" Thyra encouraged.

Fili thought long and hard. Why did he dislike Thrade? His mind played out the first time he had met the man all the way to the present time. As he did, he picked out all the moments that seemed to cause his disapproving actions.

The way he had seemed to seek out reasons to be touching Thyra. He always seemed to overlook a love sick, starry eyed Sigurd whenever she tried to do anything that would pair them off. The disregard for the girl's affections seemed to always chafe at him every time he saw his own brothers down cast eyes as he watched from the sidelines. The way Thrade always seemed to be watching Thyra, be it from the corner of his eye or blatant staring as she moved around the camp. Thorin seemed to favor him so easily and take him under his wing as if he were his own son, making Fili feel like the fatherless nephew he really was. And the way Thrade sought out to always be near Thyra. All of these he found disapproval in.

When he realized the frequency in which his disfavored features of Thrade seemed to rotate around Thyra, Fili cast a side glance at her. As expected her eyes were steadily fixed on him, awaiting his answer. Fili swallowed the strange lump in his throat as he wondered why exactly he disapproved the interactions between Thyra and Thrade so much.

He shook his head. "There are certain...ways in which he interacts with select people that I do not approve of," he henged.

Thyra's brow raised, "What ways?"

Fili gave her a smirk, "That is not how the game works," he said, throwing own previous words back at her. "One question for one answer, and I believe it is my turn again."

Thyra let out a small grunt but the twitch of her lips and nod of approval told him she was accepting.

"You catch on quickly," she replied, a tone of amusement in her voice. "What is your question?"

"Why do you ignore Thrade's affection?" he asked while the topic of Thrade lingered on his mind.

"Because I do not return them," she stated matter of factly.

Fili felt there was more to it than her simple answer but given the fact she did not demand more for his earlier answer, he let it slide.

"How old are you?"

She seemed surprised by his question. But a half smile came to her face as she leaned back on her hands, taking up a rare pose of relaxation.

"Seven and sixty winters," she answered.

It was not a surprise but at the same time, it was. At times she looked and acted far older than her real age. But on other occasions he had seen times and moments when she looked far younger.

"What?" she asked and Fili realized he was staring at her.

At the moment she looked older than the age she claimed. With her hair unbound and free of her usual skin tight braids, along with the dark shadows that accentuated her bone structure, it seemed to age her. That, along with the ease in which he conversed with her at the moment made him forget that he was her senior. It was not by much given their life span, but it was enough to be significant at this point in their lives. She was not even of age.

Fili shrugged, "Sometimes I forget how young you are."

She smirked. "I understand that is good in your culture. Youth is valued."

Fili nodded, then asked, "Is it not the same in yours?"

She shook her head and cast her eyes around, checking their perimeter as she answered. "No. We value wisdom and age. Youth is a thing we all acquire when we are born but longevity is a thing only few manage to be successful in gaining in a lifetime."

Fili pondered her words but he could not relate to them. He knew many people of old age. In fact, he seemed to know more people of old age then younger. A fact in which he voiced.

"Is old age really that great of a feat? If I am not mistaken, I know more people who would be considered well seasoned than those still in their youth."

A grim smile came to her face at his words. Slowly, she leaned forward to rest her elbows on her legs and clasped her hands together. She stared down at them as she began to speak again.

"And why do you think that is?" She asked slowly, her eyes moved up to meet his. "Youth defended Erebor when the dragon came. Youth died when Erebor fell. Youth are who went on to fight at the battle of Azanulbizar. Yes I know the stories," she added when Fili showed a small sign of surprise at her knowledge of history. "Like you said, I often listen rather than speak," she supplied with a sly smile before continuing back to the topic at hand. "As I was saying, youth procreate, but what happens when there are few youth? A population takes generations to recover after such history. Those that died far outweigh those that are still living. You cannot deny their should be more of your age as well as younglings, but there are not, because longevity is a rarity in an age of war. Should your people live in peace long enough again, you will see a shift in the balance."

Never in his life had Fili ever thought these things. Never in his life he questioned such things. But as he thought about it, he realized everything she said was correct. The more he studied her, he realized this was not a knowledge passed down, this was a knowledge learned first hand.

"What happened to your people?" he asked, his voice just barely above a whisper.

She stared at him vacantly with her eyes glazed over, lost in thought. He was beginning to think she had not heard him. But when he opened his mouth to ask again, she cut him off.

"I believe it is no longer your turn to ask questions," she said quickly.

"Ok," Fili conceded with a nod, he could wait for his next turn.

As if sensing his train of thought, Thyra narrowed her eyes as if to read him. Her mouth pulled into a frown. "I choose to stop. I no longer owe an answer therefore I have no debt."

Fili frowned. He was not ready for the game to end. He still had questions. "But–" he moved to voice his protest but stopped when she abruptly stood and looked down at him.

"That is how the game is played." Her eyes cast around the perimeter. "I am going to walk the area and check to make sure no one is approaching."

Fili frowned but she had dissolved into the darkness before he could protest.

She did not reappear until first light when it was time to break camp, keeping him from speaking with her as they went about preparing for the day. And for the rest of the day she avoided him. In fact, for the rest of the week they hardly spoke unless out of necessity. Azog and his filth had caught up to them which meant they rested little and remained quiet in an effort to remain undetected and ahead of their pursuers.

The door violently shook against the bear's mighty paws as it raged against the heavy weight of the large planks of maple wood. As a collective group they all pushed together and with their combined strengths the door finally slammed shut long enough for Dwalin to pull the heavy latch into place.

Tentatively, they began to step back from the door. Their breaths held as they anticipated the moment when the wood would crack, splinter, and give way to the bear's relentless pounding. For a minute they all watched it rattle and shake until it ceased. No one dared to move as they listened to the heavy, agitated breathing of the bear from the other side of the door. It was only when the distinct sound of its retreating footsteps filled their ears that they all let out a synchronized sigh.

"What was that?" It was Ori who posed the question that was running through everyone's minds.

As a unit, all eyes fell on Gandalf who looked disheveled as he removed his hat and wiped his brow. He found a surface the lean against and took a moment to catch his breath.

"That is our host," he stated, earning various looks of confusion before he explained further. "His name is Beorn, he's a skin-changer. At times he's a huge black bear, others he's a great strong man. The bear is unpredictable, but the man can be reasoned with. However, he is not overly fond of dwarves."

The company exchanged uneasy glances at this. Ori peeked out of one of the windows next to the door, only to be pulled away right after by his brother.

"Come away from there," Dori chastised. "It's not natural," he muttered. "None of it. It's obvious, he is under some dark spell.

"Don't be a fool," Gandalf grunted. "He's under no enchantment but his own."

Dori did not seem convinced by Gandalf's words but he gave a nod of his head anyways to satisfy the old wizard.

"Alright now, get some sleep all of you. We'll be safe here tonight."

At his words he turned around to peer out the window as the rest of the company began to explore the large farm house and make some makeshift beds. Bilbo lingered for a moment, still shaken by their flight from the orcs and bear. He heard Gandalf mumble something offhandedly to himself that weakened the safety of his earlier words.

Having a safe place to sleep with a real roof and plenty of cushions and hay to serve as a mattress, made for an easy nights sleep. However, having a scheduled time of waking repeatedly at the same time for several weeks prior, made it difficult to take advantage of such a rare opportunity for others. Fili was one of these others.

While the snores and happy hums of sweet dreams chorused from the rest of the company spread around the farm house, Fili found himself promptly waking at the same time he had for the past several weeks out of habit, rather than the nudging encouragement of the previous watch. He tried to lay still and fall back asleep but it seemed despite how tired he felt, his body would simply not give up its habit of being up at this time of night. With a silent sigh he sat up and looked around the room.

It was strange looking around the darkness and taking in the structures contents. With everything being overly large, even for a person of the human race, it made Fili feel very small. It made him began to wonder if this was how the hobbit felt all the time.

Thinking of the halfling, Fili cast his eyes around to find him curled up on an overly sized chair cushion with his head resting on a sack of flour. It didn't look like the most comfortable position but he supposed it was a better bed than anything any of them had seen since leaving the guild.

The sound of a light rustle caused his attention to draw away from the hobbit and angle his eyes higher up to where the small loft was located over the barn area of the house. As the dying fire in the middle of the square cabin failed to reach far enough to illuminate the rafters, it left him looking at a dark space that was impossible to distinguish anything that lay within that space. At the edge, he could see the golden straws of hay peeking over the wooden slats that made up the loft floor.

There was another, much louder rustle, and his mind became alert. Before, he had assumed the sound had been caused by one of the many rodents he had seen scurrying around the home. But this second rustle could only be caused by something of much larger mass than a single mouse.

Curiosity peaked, and too restless to let it go, Fili quietly stood from his makeshift bed and made his way to the ladder that led up to the loft. The first rung gave out an awful groan when he put the smallest amount of weight on it. He paused for a moment, casting a glance to assure he did not wake anyone as he took notice of the rustling pause. Trying again, this time skipping the first step, Fili began to hoist himself up towards the loft. A few other steps gave out small creaks but nothing compared to the first.

As his head crested over the loft floor, he was met with the sight of a small figure sitting near a square widow cut out of the middle of the far wall. The shutters were pushed wide open, letting in a refreshing night air as well as a cascade of moonlight.

It did not surprise him that Thyra was awake as well.

He took the moment of seeing her candid profile as she stared out the window with her head leaned against the frame as she gazed out. It was a strange sight seeing her looking so relaxed. Gone was the rigid posture that always made her alert, gone were the observing eyes looking for danger, and gone was the stoic expression that guarded her thoughts.

Instead she looked out across the night, her eyes tracing the terrain with no purpose but to trace the lines of the silhouetted trees and hill sides. There was no searching for danger, just a simple appreciation for the lands hidden beauty. With the absence of seriousness, her face was left open and vulnerable as a lost in thought expression settled on her features.

It did not last long for as soon as his hand reached for the top of the ladder, her head swiveled to face him, her stoic mask falling onto her face while her body straightened into a more alert stature.

Fili did his best to ignore the penetrating stare of her dark eyes as he moved from ladder to loft and made his way over to where she sat. She said nothing as he settled on the opposite side. He threw his legs over the window ledge to let them hang over as leaned his left shoulder on the frame for stability as he let silence settle between them. Weeks ago the silence would have felt heavy between them but now it was nothing but a peaceful ease.

In the distance a loud roar sounded, causing Fili to jump as his eyes sought out the source. From the corner of his eye he saw Thyra stiffen as well, her dark eyes sweeping the perimeter. When there was no other disturbance to follow, Thyra seemed to settle down as she slowly moved back to a slightly more relaxed stature. With her no longer alert, Fili himself felt his body ease and relax. Settled into calmness, he let his attention drift to Thyra.

Next to her sat the leather bound journal he often saw her sketching in. Taking in the etched design on the front, Fili suddenly had an urge to see what sights the leather cover held within its pages. He had seen her drawings before, the ones that she had done for Sigurd, but could not help but wonder what Thyra specifically deemed worthy enough to be copied onto paper for her own personal log of memories.

Without thinking his hand reached out to touch the edge of its cover. His movement caused Thyra's hand to dart out quickly and slap protectively over the cover. Her head slowly turned to look at him as her dark eyes gave silent warning.

"May I?" He found himself asking and to his surprise, after a long, hesitant pause, Thyra gave a single nod and lifted her hand away.

With gentle hands, Fili opened the book to a random page and began to peruse the contents within. Most were landscapes made up of unfamiliar mountain ranges and coasts. Occasionally an animal or creature in varying degrees of size and familiarity would appear. He paused on one particularly terrifying creature that Fili wondered if it was a creature from a nightmare or if such a thing really existed. Whichever it was, be it a thing of fantasy or reality, he could decipher from the detailed shading of its scales and horns that Thyra had seen this creature more than once to produce such lifelike details.

The more images he took in, the more he realized something. Thyra did not draw people. Not in a single image was there a portrait of a person, just scenes. It made him wonder why the absence but before he could ask, he came across a particular picture that made him pause and study.

At first, Fili thought he was looking at Erebor. But the more he looked at it, the more he realized the differences between his ancestors and future home verses the place drawn on parchment. The entrance to what could only be a mountain kingdom, was constructed and carved not into a single mountain, but within an entire mountain range. And what he had first assumed was the long lake set at the lone mountains base, was much too large and vast to be a lake. When he noticed the large ships sketched along the shoreline and docked in the bay, he realized that it was the ocean shore he was looking at. If not, at the very least it was a sea.

His eyes focused on the body of water. He had only seen the ocean a few times in his life, but never had he seen it so beautiful.

"What is this place?" he asked, turning the journal so she could see as he watched her face.

A wistful look came to her face as she studied the picture. "Valhil," she said with a near hallowed tone. "My home."

Fili automatically looked down at the picture again, his fingers traced the mountain range then swept across the sea that had been tenderly colored with vivid detail. The waves and transitions of colors had been done with such skill that it seemed almost as if the drawn tide were moving, the foamy froth that lapped along the coast seemed to bubble on the paper as small boats sailed across the bay.

"It's beautiful," he murmured, then added, "do you miss it?"

The question fell from his lips without much thought, but when she did not answer immediately, his attention moved up to her. He had forgotten whom he had been speaking to. But as he looked up at her face, she did not seem angry as he expected her to be. Instead she seemed slightly thoughtful.

"Yes, and no," she said quietly.

"Answer for a question?" Fili asked, wanting more from her and knowing she would not give it freely.

Thyra seemed to contemplate his proposal for a moment then nodded her head. "Yes. But me first," she demanded, to which Fili could not help but feel himself smile. He figured that would be the price.

It was his turn now. Their game had gone on much longer than usual as they were now on their tenth round. It was something they had repeated several times in the past week and he had finally caught onto the true logistics and strategy of the game.

It was all about wording, timing, and build up. Broad questions earned vague answers but specific answers earned short answers, forcing one to find a medium between the two to gain the most information per question. Timing meant you started with small questions and eased into the bigger, deeper questions. And for the later of the two types, you stagard them out according to if the answer was in debt of an answer or if it evened out the players. If it was even, they could easily stop the game without consequence and the questioner would be left answerless. However, wait until the answerer owed an answer and they would be forced to give the truth regardless of privacy or secrets. It was this reason he realized it earned the status of a game. It was a game of risk because you were gambeling away the privacy of your thoughts and mind. You made yourself vulnerable in order to gain knowledge.

As it turned out it was a favorite pastime of the Régínn. Which made sense for people who did not believe in lies passing from their lips. Fili had first thought the game was flawed as anyone could just lie but having learned at least this minimal fact of her culture, he realized why it would be such a popular game. For while they would not lie, Fili found that the Régínn had other means of deception. Omission was one loophole while the other was straight up refusing to say anything. Both strategies he knew Thyra to use naturally with others but with the game, those options were removed.

So far Fili had not learned a lot of anything he deemed truly personal as he had not understood the strategies at first. But even the smallest scrap of knowledge he earned, he clung to and reanalyzed her each time.

She hated sweets. Both her parents had passed on to the halls of her people's gods but he had yet to learn the cause. She had siblings but again, he did not know how many or if they were brothers or sisters. He favorite color was purple. She received her first tattoo when she was six years of age, earned on her naming day when a child is considered old enough to begin contributions into society. In other words, begin training for battle.

He had just finished telling her of what he remembered of his father. It was not exactly the hardest question to answer but it was certainly still a sore spot. But he answered it anyways, eager to learn more of her. It surprised him that she would time it so that he could back out but then again, he had noticed Thyra did this often, as if she was testing out the waters of where his limits were on certain subjects. It was a strategy he himself had just learned the other night when he took notice of the patterns when she ended the game. For her, it was family and details of the events that brought her to the east that caused her to quickly shut him out.

With her now in the imbalance, Fili searched his mind for a question that he truly wanted an answer for. As he thought, his eyes wandered to where Thyra's finger was absentmindedly tracing the black lines that ran down her forearm. He had asked many questions about the various tattoos that marked her body, but never this one. As he took it in, he realized that there was a patch of irritated skin where a new forked marking had been etched into her skin recently, adding a fourth branch to the design. He found this odd in the way that adding to her collection of black lines would be deemed a priority given their current predicament.

"What does that tattoo symbolize?" he asked, reaching out to gently trace the new line before looking quickly up to gauge her reaction.

He saw hesitancy in her eyes, telling him that whatever the answer was, it was a touchy subject. She looked down at her arm where his finger was still poised against the smith skin of her inner arm. Becoming aware that he was still touching her, he quickly retracted his hand as Thyra moved her own to begin tracing the lines.

"Reiði blóð," she answered in her mother tongue after an extended length of time. Then she interpreted it. "Blood rage."

Fili looked at the marking with a new light. Now that he had a name it seemed obvious to him now. Instead of lightning, it was a vein. His mouth automatically opened to ask what exactly blood rage was but he stopped himself when he looked up into her eyes and saw the guarded warning. Automatically, Fili knew that this was a topic she did not want to discuss. And now with their tally no longer out of balance, Fili decided to save the question for a more strategic time. So instead he asked a different question that seemed innocent enough.

"Why did you hate me when we first met?" he asked. "And before you say you didn't, I want to know why you seemed to treat me differently than the others," he clarified, for they both knew that she did.

He watched her closely, waiting for an answer but to his surprise, it did not come as quickly or easily as expected. In fact, it did not come at all. Her eyes seemed to glaze over as she stared back at him. The usually passionate and expressive luster of her eyes became empty and vacant as she became lost in thought.

9 years ago: The outskirts of Valhil capital Stronghold Of the Régínn

The air was thin at the top of the mountain, making it difficult to breath and Thyra's breaths were ragged as she finally reached its summit. Adjusting the bag that was weighing down on her shoulders she took in the small dip of a valley below.

At the bottom of the shallow valley lay a half frozen lake. The exposed water rippled in the gentle wind, its surface crystal clear, revealing the pebbled bottom beneath its icy surface. But Thyra's eyes only remained on the lake for a moment before moving to the point of her final destination.

Standing at the edge of the lake was a small hovel, over run with vines and grass as it stood crooked from the years of holding up heavy snow and facing gusting winds. It gave the impression that it was on the verge of collapsing at any moment. It had been years since she had last laid eyes on it and there was a reason why she avoided it. Already her stomach churned and burned within her chest as the bitter taste of bile rose up to the back of her throat.

Stringing curse words beneath her breath, she forced her feet to carry her body down to the small structure. All too soon she found herself passing through the threshold. Thyra's nostrils where instantly filled with the smell of burning sage and a mixture of other incense that filled the single roomed dwelling with a smoky layer. Her eyes took in only darkness at first until they adjusted to the dim setting. A light emanating from the dimming fire that warmed the small space illuminated the room that just barely managed to cut through the smokey haze of the air.

Dried herbs hung from the rafters as tangled strings tied in intricate knots and decorated with feathers and bones hung down the sides of the walls. Various skins and woven cloth carpeted the dirt floor and the sparse furniture was shoved into the corners and along the walls. In the middle of the room sat a man grinding a dried flower into a fine powder.

"It has been a long time since you have stepped past my threshold," came the man's raspy and wheezing voice.

Thyra stilled, she had not made a sound upon entering but she knew better than to be surprised. The man had most likely known she would be coming even before she had made the decision to make the journey yesterday morning.

"Thyra of the rage blood," the man said as he lifted unfocused, milky blind eyes in her direction. "I saw you coming to me at the last full moon but I wondered if you would truly arrive. Then again, when the fates have decided there is no changing their minds. Despite your love for prolonging the inevitable"

Thyra continued to remain silent but she moved herself further into the room and settled down on the ground with her legs crossed and palms gripping tightly on her knees. The man's blind eyes followed her every movement as if his long ago faded eyes were brand new.

"You have gained many names since I last proclaimed that the rage blood runs through your veins. Many of them I hear from those who come in and out of my home, asking me questions and bringing me news. They speak often of you. Thyra the Reaper, The Valkyrie with clipped wings, Thyra the traitor, Aelle's executioner, The Serpent's Fang, the trueー"

"That is enough," Thyra's stoney voice cut off old man's rambling. "You saw me coming therefore you know why I am here."

The shrill and mocking cackle of the man filled the air. His face glimmered with amusement as he stared blindly at her. Finally his mouth closed but Thyra could still hear his mockery sounding out in his throat. She frowned at being at the expense of his amusement but remained silent. As the blind man settled down, his head slowly began to shake back and forth.

"I will not tell you your future," he stated firmly.

Thyra gritted her teeth. "I brought payment."

The man's face flickered again with amusement. "It is not payment I want," he stated.

"Then what do you want?" She ground out.

He leaned forward. "I want what the fates want," he declared in a low whisper. Then his face became void of any amusement as he sat back and spoke again, this time in a dark anger. "You came to me last time and I told you your fate, you denied it and look at what those choices have resulted in." He shook his head. "No I will not tell you your fate because you already know it, Thyra of the rage blood. I told you your fate yet you chose to go against it."

Amusement adorned his face again.

"You angered the fates Thyra, you angered the gods," he said with a smile. "They had much in store for you and as consequences to your actions, they still do. You may think you changed your fate but all you managed was to alter the path. No matter the detours or side roads, they will all still end in the same place. The fates will have have their ending that you so easily offended. And as reprimand to your offense, they have laid out much more than you could ever imagine."

Thyra frowned, not happy with the uneasy feeling she was getting. She pushed her unease down by going on the defensive, not willing to submit to the threatening fear.

"I have heard enough," she growled. Standing up swiftly she reached into her bag and dropped a large package of dried fish, the salty scent of its preservatives filling the air and causing the blind man's mouth to water, as she offered him his favorite delicacy. "Tell your fates that they are wrong and I will find my own way in seeing that the Régínn are restored to the proud people they once were. Hymir will have his heir placed onto the throne and the will of the eye will be as useless as your own clouded eyes."

She turned to depart but only made it to the doorstep when the seer's voice halted her.

"When you go west...and you will go west," he said steadily. "You will come across winter and summer, both are princes of the year. Life is dormant in the winter, evidence is hidden but it only takes a change in the wind for spring to come. Life grows in the summer, small saplings that were once just seeds become what they were fated to be. And then there is a bountiful harvest and the fates are hungry."

Thyra frowned. "You speak nonsense," she stated firmly. "I know my place in this world and I will stay there until the day I die."

She continued to walk outside the doorway but not before she heard his dying words.

"An ash seedling may look like a blade of grass when first pushing through the earth. But it is still an ash tree, there is no changing what it is. You're an ash Thyra, not a blade of grass."

Thyra grasped at her forearm where the black lines inked across her skin formed the very same type of tree. Gritting her teeth she continued to make her way back down the mountain. She had been foolish to hope that the blind man would help her. Today had been a waste, there was a civil war taking place amongst her people and she was wasting time playing nonsensical riddle games with a man who spent more time in a dream trance than in the reality of the world.

Try as she did, the seer's words were never forgotten. They haunted her for years and for awhile she was able to deal with it because she did not fear what was not directly before her. However that changed the day the impossible happened.

She went west.

As her mind concluded its journey into her memories, Thyra blinked. Her eyesight which had gone blurry in her state of remembrance, cleared. And as the memory faded, a pair of bright blue orbs surrounded by a golden mane came into her vision. Fili stared back at her, looking at her expectantly with a softness about his face that was still unfamiliar to having directed at her.

While unfamiliar, the expression was quickly becoming a favorite as it was a much preferred contrast to his usual pinched looks of distrust and dislike. The latter was a look she had been determined to ensure always remained directed towards her. But as time went on and the more she had observed and interacted with him, she had found it more difficult to provoke. Not because she couldn't but because she didn't want it. She had grown fond of their talks, grown fond their games. She had grown fond of him.

But with his single, innocent question, Thyra was rudely awakened to what she had allowed to happen over the last few months. She mentally swore at herself as she gave herself a private chastisement within the confines of her mind. She had known better. From the first time she had seen him she had known.

He was the one that would ensure her curse.

When the blind man told her she would come to the west she had scoffed. Like all her people, she was a believer in prophetic gifts and superstitious. However, stubbornness can do many things to a person. She had become a believer in making her own fate. Or at least she believed she could avoid the fate bestowed upon her. Unfortunately, things had not turned out as well as she hoped the first time she had denied fate to fall into place. However, when the blind seer told her the west was where her fate would find her again, she couldn't help but hope she could outwit fate.

She would not go west.

It seemed a simple and easy solution. Her people did not go to the west anymore. Yet, two years later when she found herself with a path leading to it, she found herself fearing the dreaded words of the seer.

Her fear turned to horror when she found herself presented with a literal prince as one of the companions she had spent the majority of her time during her years in the west. It was then that she realized that fate was far more stealthy than she predicted, and no matter how keen her eyes were, she would never be able to hide from it.

She had determined Thrade was the winter prince long ago. With his pale skin, dark hair, and icy blue eyes, he was the epitome of winter. Winter was the dormant season. The time just before spring when everything bloomed. With Thrade being a prince of a fallen kingdom that still had loyal subjects that awaited a ruler, it was easy to interpret that Thrade truly was the winter prince the seer had told her of. So she had become cautious with Thrade, keeping him at a distance. For a time she found peace with it, until the night of the first encounter.

The moment Thyra lay her eyes upon Fili, she had known who he was. Before his lineage as well as status as heir was revealed to her, she knew him to be the summer prince. She had felt the pull, like a magnetic force she was drawn to him. For this reason she had done everything in her power to keep herself distant. But the force was strong and she was fearful that her willpower would not be enough. So she had done everything in her power to make sure that it was not just her efforts, but Fili's as well.

From the start he seemed to hate her, but the way he watched her held too much curiosity and not enough hatred. She had seen it in his eyes, the dislike was just a mask whether he knew it or not. This observation fueled her actions to instill that hatred and it was obvious by Fili's question that he had noticed he was singled out above others.

Thyra did not share much of her life back at home because she knew these westerners would not understand it. Like she struggled to understand all of their customs and ways, her culture seemed even harder for them to grasp. But there was one exception to this. Fili's life was far more similar than she cared to admit. Fili was the first she believed could fully understand her home life if given the chance. But there was danger in that truth.

Thyra stared into his face, her eyes roving across his handsome features that she had always had difficulty ignoring. She assumed her expression must have looked quite disturbing for no longer did his face hold the eased softness, but instead wrinkled in concern.

Thyra hated it because it made her dread the actions she was about to enact. However, she had done much more difficult things. Although it surprised her how much more the hurt within her chest seemed to be this time.

With a deep breath, she let her body straighten into her usual guarded stance as she collected her drawing journal from the space between them and slowly rose to her feet. From the corner of her eye, she watched him follow her movements with confusion.

Refusing to look at him still she lingered for a moment. "I'm done," she said in a flat tone that held no emotion. "I go to bed, you should too."

As her feet carried herself away, she made her way to the ladder and descended down to the ground, careful to keep her eyes averted from his silhouette as she climbed down.

As she lay down to rest, she kept her eyes shut tightly as she mentally went through the actions that she would need to take in order to undo what had developed over the course of the past few weeks. The first would be to keep her distance, at least to the best of her ability. The second would be to keep from a drastic change. She would not let things go back to what they once were as they caused problems for Thorin. Asha had promised Thorin she and Sigurd would not be a burden, therefore she would not let things escalate as they had. She also knew that Fili would question the sudden change, a side effect to their companionable relationship. Therefore, if she could not distance herself physically or push him to hate her, she would do it in other ways. She had done it once with Thrade, she could do it again.

Yikes its been awhile! I kind of gave up on this story for awhile because I was not getting any feedback and wasn't sure people were reading. But it kept bothering me so I decided to pick it back up. I think once I get through Beorn I will be able to get rolling again. Please let me know how you are feeling. We finally got some Thyra perspective, is this something you want to see more of? This had turned into a Fili/Thyra dominant story but there will still be the other couples here and there. Let me know if you want to see more of one or the other pairings more often.