Chapter 22: The Bear Encounter: Part II

The morning began with the familiar sounds of bickering and debating as to what to do. They had all slept soundly, with the presence of safety and a roof over their head. But with the return of the sun in the morning sky, came also the owner of the house in which they were currently residing.

"There is no point in arguing," Gandalf interjected as the debate of to go out the back door or stand and fight was being discussed. "We cannot pass through the wilderness without Beorn's help. We would be hunted down before we would even get to the Mirkwood." He began to make his way towards the door. "This will require a delicate hand. We must tread very carefully, the last person to startle him was torn to shreds."

He paused by the open door and looked around at them all. The rest of the group looked around at each other, exchanging looks of worry and stress. The chopping of an axe splitting wood sounded, startling them all.

"Now, Bilbo you come with me," he beckoned with a finger.

There was a pause as Bilbo looked around for a reason to counter Gandalf's call. "Ah...i一is this a good idea?" he questioned.

"Yes," Gandalf assured. "Now the rest of you, wait here. And don't come out until I give the signal," he added.

"Right," agreed Bofur as he vigorously nodded his head from where he was perched near the window, "wait for the signal."

Gandalf began to turn to leave but stopped himself. "No sudden movements or loud noises," he warned. "Only come out in pairs," he emphasized.

The group all began to nod in understanding as they each paired off. Gandalf grabbed Bilbo's shoulder and began to lead him out the door.

"Oh, correction Bomber," he paused at the threshold. "You count as two so you go out alone." Bombur who was busy nibbling on a carrot nodded and Gandalf gave another warning to wait for the signal.

"What signal would that be?" Bofur asked aloud just as Gandalf disappeared outside with a nervous looking group all looked around as if waiting for someone to have and answer. All they came up with were shrugged shoulders and blank faces.

Gandalf watched with dismay as the dwarves in which he had just given specific instructions to wait on his signal seemed to pour from the house. He had just barely begun to ease into the fact that the duo, of himself and Bilbo, were in fact accompanied by a few more before they started to come out two by two. The rate in which they walked out in pairs was nothing like treading lightly as they stumbled and rushed out with hasty greetings. It was the very opposite of delicate handling.

"Dori."

"And Ori."

"At your service," the pair said together after their introductions.

"I don't want your service," growled Beorn in agitation as the pair moved the count up from six to eight.

"Absolutely understandable," Gandalf quickly said with a raised hand in an attempt to smooth things over.

Unfortunately any progress he hoped to gain was interrupted by the appearance of Fili and Kili. Who he had just listed their names before another four came stumbling out of the house onto the stairs.

"Oh yes, and Nori, Bofur, Bifur and Bombur," he added, doing his best to keep everything seem like casual introduction.

Beorn gave him a hard stare. "Is that it?" he inquired with his quiet tone. "Are there any more?"

Gandalf let out a sigh and turned back around. Out stepped a timid looking Sigurd with a cautious looking Thyra by her side. Thyra looked hesitantly at Beorn before stepping down the stairs, bringing Sigurd along with her. Together they gave a small bow before stepping backwards to melt in with the rest of the group.

"Sigurd and Thyra are so new to our company that I quite forgotten they are with us," Gandalf said, hoping their feminie features and Thyra's small stature would help ease their addition to the numbers.

Beorn gave a grunt as his beady black eyes roved over the small maidens. His attention lingered slightly longer on Thyra as he took in the identifying tattoos exposed on her bare arms before becoming distracted as the last and final member made his appearance. Thorin walked out silently, locking eyes with Beorn, who seemed to know exactly who he was without introduction.

"So you are the one they call Oakenshield," commented Beorn as he walked around the large table filling cups of fresh milk that were too large for any of the drinkers. "Tell me, why is Azog the Defiler hunting you?"

"You know of Azog?" Thorin asked in a quiet tone. "How?"

"My people were the first to live in the mountains, before the Orcs came down from the north. The Defiler killed most of my family, but some he enslaved." Beorn gripped the pitcher he held in suppressed anger. The broken shackles that were still secured around his wrist let out a slight clinking, drawing the attention of everyone present. "Not for work, you understand, but for sport. Caging skin-changers and torturing them seemed to amuse him."

He finished filling the last tankard of milk for Ori and took a seat in the large chair at the corner of the table, his dark eyes settling on Thyra and her wrist.

"I do not know much of your people," he commented. "But I know the signs of slavery. I have never seen a dwarf of your kind, are you a last as well?"

Everyone's attention fell to the small dwarrowmaid who was seated between Dwalin and Sigurd. At the sudden attention she seemed to cringe away from their stares, her right hand wrapping around her left wrist self consciously, though the action was futile. By this time in their journey, every member of the company had seen the branding that adorned the inner side of her wrist. And while secretive was her nature, the small facts and pieces she had shared with them had been traded and exchanged like currency in a bustling marketplace.

There was a delay in action as Thyra's eyes moved about but eventually she gave her head a shake.

"Then you are free?"

This time Thyra gave no answer. Instead her eyes fell down to the table.

Beorn let out a disturbed hum but did not question her any further. His eyes flicked to Gandalf who sat in the corner smoking his pipe. "You need to reach your mountain before the last days of autumn."

"Before Durin's day," Gandalf clarified. "Which is why we must travel through the Mirkwood."

"A darkness lies upon that forest. Fell things creep beneath those trees. Strange creatures that do not belong to these lands. They came from the south and the east and have infected and invaded." His eyes darted again to Thyra, this time more of accusation than sympathy. "There is an alliance between the orcs and the Necromancer of Dol Guldur. I would not venture there except in great need."

"We will take the elvin road," Gandalf assured. "Their path is still safe."

"Safe?' Beorn challenged. "The wood elves of Mirkwood are not like their kin. They are less wise, and more dangerous. But it matters not…"

Thorin, who had begun to slowly pace, turned around to look at Beorn. "What do you mean?" he asked, his tone doused in worry.

"These lands are crawling with orcs. Their numbers are growing and you are on foot, you will never reach the forest alive." Thorin was set with unease at his words and Beorn stood up before he continued, walking towards the table. "I don't like dwarves. They're greedy and blind to those they deemed lesser than their own." He reached down and gently picked up a small mouse Dwalin had batted away without a caring thought. His large hands held the small creature gently as he looked down at it, causing a pause before he continued. "But orcs I hate more…: he looked back up, "what do you need?"

It was decided they would stay one more night before making a mad dash for the Mirkwood. After the agreeance of Beorn's help and the plan of action and necessary items to achieve the journey, the company all dispersed to venture around Beorn's home, taking care to not venture too far from the safe proximity that came with Beorn's protected territory.

In a small orchard, Kili found Sigurd wandering around the fruit laden trees as she collected sap in a small jar to add to her medicinal collection. Watching her lazily meander through the trees with the warm sun bringing out the lighter highlights in her dark hair felt strange. It was such a contrasting change to the high adrenaline weeks they had experienced for the past month.

Despite the rushed pace and high level of danger they were in the past weeks, Kili had pondered long and hard about the advice Thyra had given him. He had yet to put forth any action in clarifying his feelings to Sigurd for many reasons, the biggest one being that the dire situation they were in had been an astronomically inappropriate setting for such things. However, now that things seemed safe at the moment, Kili found himself still unable due to his second biggest reason, his lack of confidence.

He was just about to turn around and leave when Sigurd's head turned and she gave him a welcoming smile when she spotted him. Once he witnessed her face brighten there was no turning around or ignoring the invitation. Like metal to a magnet, he was drawn to her and before he knew it, he was striding along next to her.

"This seems so strange," she commented. "I feel as though we should be on high alert and not strolling through an orchard. I feel as though an orc will jump out at any moment."

Kili nodded in agreement having had the very same thoughts just a few moments ago.

"Aye, but you shouldn't fear too much. Any orc that thought of coming near here would lose poorly to Beorn," he commented to which she nodded in agreement. He watched her approach a tree and scrape off the sticky sap that was weeping from its trunk. "What are you doing?"

"Tree sap is good for preventing infection," Sigurd answered.

He watched her technique for a moment, before offering to help. An offer in which she gratefully accepted. "You are a good man," she commented as she handed him a vial in which to collect the sap. "You will make some dwarrowmaid very happy indeed someday."

Kili looked at her as she gave him a soft smile. Immediately, Kili knew that this was the moment he had been waiting for. If he let it pass by without saying something now, he knew that this is what she would always and only ever see in him. A good man, but for another woman.

"Siggy," Kili began. "I think...there is something I have been…"

His words failed him as he tried to form his feelings into sentences. He looked up from where he fidgeted with the bottle she had handed him. Her blue eyes looked bright in contrast to her dark hair. It had gotten longer since he had first met her. Now it easily reached past her shoulders, just long enough for Thyra to secure two tight braids for her. After being welcomed as guests and not intruders to his home, the two maidens took the opportunity to utilize the privacy of the bathing room that Beorn offered them.

While Thyra had managed to get all of her hair secured when it was still wet, as the morning had progressed and it dried, several strands had fallen free from the tight weave the Régínn had managed to braid for her. The wisps that had escaped the weave had now fallen into her face. To her they seemed to go unnoticed but to Kili...they danced and tantalized him. It was as if they were asking to be pushed away.

Without a thought his hand had already moved up and tucked them behind her ear. The action caused her icy blue eyes to look up at him in surprise. His fingers lingered in her hair as his thumb absentmindedly brushed the side of her cheek. A pink hue seemed to bloom from where the tip of his thumb rested at the apple of her cheek, and from there it spread until she had a light dusting that crossed the bridge of her nose to her other cheek to make a symmetrical blush. Kili made the mistake of looking down at her mouth and after seeing the plump pucker of her lips, there was no more thinking. There was no more second thoughts or fear of rejection.

He just moved.

It was over faster than it began. But as Kili pulled away from the light peck he had placed on her lips, he knew that he had gotten his point across. There was no misunderstanding in her eyes as she looked back at him.

"Sorry," he apologized. "Forgive me for not asking first but I wasn't sure how to explain how I feel. I guess I just unconsciously took Thyra's advice," he admitted with a bashful smile and looked down at the small space that separated them. "But you can't blame me, you said yourself that her advice was something to be sought out."

He felt her head slowly move and he looked up to see her dazedly nodding. With his hand still holding her face, he kept his eyes locked with her as he spoke.

"I don't expect you to reciprocate. But I want to make my intentions clear," he said, emboldened by the rush of the feel of her lips against his. "I like you Siggy. I want to be more than just a friend. I know that your feelings reside with Thrade, but I would like you to at least consider me as an alternative. I don't expect you to give me an answer now, in fact I would rather you not. Give me a fair chance. If not now at least later, when all of this is done, and I might be able to properly court you. But until then at least give me the consideration."

With that said, Kili quickly and abruptly left her. Leaving Sigurd to stand alone in the orchard and staring after him. Still dazed from the sudden awakening, she did not notice her arm move until she felt her fingers touch her lips and trace where his lips met hers.

It had been brief and chaste. More of a brushing of lips to lips than even a full peck. It was not the lustful passion that Sigurd had always imagined her first kiss to be, but despite this, there was no disappointment.

It had been sweet.

She had always dreamt of her first kiss coming from Thrade. Her heart had always been solely for him. At least that is what she always had thought. But as she slowly regained the ability of self awareness, she noticed the rapid beating within her chest. She smiled against her fingers as they still remained on her lips. It was nothing she had asked for. The kiss, her first kiss, had been stolen. But she would be lying if she said she did not enjoy the sensation.

Fili watched as his brother quickly walk away from Sigurd. His face was beet red but the tall and confident way in which he carried himself made him proud. He had watched the entire thing happen from his hidden nook of the orchard. He had cringed when Kili had seemingly taken Thyra's advice and kissed Sigurd, but when he saw the faint smile come to her lips, he could not help but think that maybe Thyra had steered his brother in the right.

The light rustle of grass caused him to turn around and spot Thyra standing not far behind. Seemingly, she too had observed what he had just witnessed. The sound had been nothing more than what the wind would cause, something that most people would have given no regard. But over the weeks with his prolonged exposure to Thyra, Fili had slowly begun to pick up on her approach. While he had first thought she was soundless, he now realized she only blended herself with the natural sounds. He was still taken off guard far more than readily anticipating her approaches but he was improving.

"I suppose I was wrong about your advice," Fili said. "I apologize, maybe I should not have been so defensive when you were just trying to help my brother."

Her attention only flashed to him before quickly moving back to where Sigurd was recovering from her shock. She stood with her arms folded and feet set wide as she took on a straight backed stance.

"I not accept as there is no need to apologize," she said, her eyes still staying planted on Sigurd. "You were protecting your brother, never apologize for that. And my intentions were made without your brother in my regards. I was looking out for Sigurd, not Kili. Therefore you do not apologize."

Fili nodded without thought then slowed when he realized what he was doing. He was accepting her, although crass and what others would interpret as rude, logic. He could not help but find a small glimmer of humor. Not too long ago he would have taken personal offense but now he unquestioningly accepted it, accepted her.

Thinking of her earlier comments, a question came to his mind. "Does Sigurd remind you of your sister back home?"

For the first time since they started talking, Thyra finally fully looked at him. "Sister?" she asked, her head tilting. "I don't…" she trailed off, her head shaking, not understanding his meaning.

"Sorry I just assumed," Fili quickly said, hoping to clear away the frown that was beginning to pull at her lips. Ever since he had learned she was self conscious about her lack of skill in the language, he did his best to always make sure he phrased things as clearly as possible. "I know you have siblings and with the way you seem to treat Sigurd like your sister...I just assumed she reminded you of one back home."

He trailed off when Thyra seemed to relax slightly and understanding came to her eyes.

"No sisters," she replied, looking back to the spot were Sigurd and Kili had been earlier.

It grew quiet when Fili was unsure as to how to reply. Both Kili and Sigurd had left long ago yet Thyra was focused on the spot as if the pair were still there. From the corner of his eye, Fili watched her. She had been acting weird all morning. While it was not abnormal that Thyra ignored him, it had been a long time since she had seemed to intentionally ignore him.

"I have brothers," Thrya suddenly said, "four of them."

"Where you close with them?" Fili asked.

She shook her head. "No. I left home when I was young, to go live with my grandfather. Two were born after I left, but they were all strangers to me at my return."

"You did not reconnect with the older ones when you came back? Or try to get to know the two younger ones better?"

There was a long pause. "When I came back things were different. Too many things had changed," she answered vaguely. "I did things they disapproved of but had no understanding of. In the end, only my oldest brother knew the reason for my actions. Or at least some of them. But even so, there were things that kept a rift between us."

"What kind of things?"

As if just realizing she was having a conversation with another person, Thyra jerked her attention back to him from the spot she had been spacing out. She looked at him like she was noticing him for the first time.

"I have things to do," she said quickly, unfolding her arms as began to walk away at a vigorous pace.

Fili watched after her, at a loss as to why she was suddenly acting cold to him. She had been acting this way for some time now. Last night he had thought he rectified that. Their conversations, her letting him look at her notebook, the continuation of the game, it had all been back to normal. That is until her abrupt departure, as she had down just now.

He didn't like it. Before it would annoy and make him angry but he would get over it. But now...it was beginning to hurt.

"Orcs making alliances with necromancers, armies of growing numbers, goblins and orcs working in collaboration," Gandalf listed, then looked to Beorn. "What do you know of the necromancer in Dol Guldor?"

Beorn shook his head. "Only that the orcs that swarm these lands answer to him," he replied as he gave Gandalf a curious look. "Why do you ask?"

A stream of smoke escaped Gandalf's lips as he exhaled, the tip of his pipe resting against his bottom lip in thought. "Because Radagast found a morgul blade."

A disturbed look came over Beorn's face. He and Beorn has been discussing the ills of the changing world. With them sat Thorin who was also participating with the discussion as a handful of others within the company were spread out the room doing menial task and doing their best to eavesdrop incognito.

Among them sat Thyra who as usual sat mutely as she went about tending to her sword silently. Next to her was Thrade who looked bothered, occasionally sending off looks between her and Fili who sat across from them. Fili himself was oddly quiet, every once in awhile casting his eyes towards the Régínn with a strained expression as he and Kili packed rations.

"What kind of morgul blade," Beorn asked after a long pause.

"One that should have been buried deep beneath within the High Fells of Rhudaur where none could ever find it," Gandalf answered cryptically. "When I went to go there, the crypts had been broken open from the inside. I worry about the true identity of this necromancer you speak of."

Silence fell upon them then Thorin spoke up. "Will this affect the reclaiming of Erebor?"

"Most definitely," came Gandalf's quick reply. "And even far after you have claimed it. There is something stirring."

Thorin nodded, a deep frown crossing his lips. "Asha said the same thing. She thinks that there is no coincidence between the fall of Erebor and Dhom. She also mentioned that she has suspicions that whatever happened to Thyra's people are connected as well."

At this mention all eyes went to Thyra who stilled under their attention but did not look up. After a short pause she went back to polishing the already prestige blade she had in her lap.

With no comment from Thyra, Gandalf looked to Thorin, drawing the attention of the majority while a few continued to look at Thyra. "What does Asha know of the events of the east?"

Thorin shook his head. "Nothing much. She assumed the King that was in power when her people were still trading with them is no more."

"That would have been King Tyr if I remember. I don't remember who his predecessor was to be," Gandalf commented.

"Hymir," came a quiet reply of Thyra. "King Hymir came next...King Tyr's second son. But he is no more. Aelle, his older brother, reigns now.."

Thorin's brow creased. "A first born took over for a second born?" He asked in confusion.

When Thyra gave no reply, Gandalf clarified the oddity. "The Régínn do not choose their predecessors in the conventional way that most monarchy do."

Thorin nodded. "It is my impression that someone has enslaved them."

Gandalf took in a deep drag from his pipe. "If that is true, and Asha is correct in thinking these attacks on the kingdoms are connected and not coincidence, then I fear your enemies far more powerful than I thought. The Régínn are not the type to be so easily enslaved."

Both Thorin and Gandalf looked to where Thyra was sitting. She was still wiping her blade with a polishing cloth, the polishing ointment long rubbed in and her work now turned to idle preoccupation.

"Thyra," Gandalf called, causing her to still. "What can you tell us of the enemy of your people?"

She looked up from her work. Her lips pressed firmly together and her dark eyes closed off. There was no need for her to open her mouth to voice the denial of the request. For a moment a small anger rose within Thorin. He knew it was not right but he was desperate, he needed to know what he would be facing in the future.

"Thyra," Thorin called, bringing her attention to himself and he looked at her pleadingly, unsure of how to handle her. Asha had told him she was secretive but she had also told him she would be an asset and help in anyway she could. "Please, this is vital for the possible outcome of this quest."

For a moment he thought she would remain tight lipped but after a long moment she nodded her head. "What is it you wish to know?"

Thorin looked at Gandalf, unsure of where to begin. "How is it that you people came to be enslaved?" Gandalf started with.

"We are not slaves in the traditional context," she answered. "But we are ruled by a king who is ruled by another. We fight and conquer for our King's master."

"And your people are okay with this?"

"Some do it willingly," she responded. "Others do it only as loyalty to their king, while others…they have chosen to go against what some deem disloyal to the crown. But they do not see it as a rebellion as they do not believe Aelle to be the rightful king, therefore this is no disgrace in their disloyalty and disobedience."

"Why not?"

Thyra let out a long sigh, her shoulders lifting high before she let out her exhale. With deliberate care, she sheathed her sword and lay it down next to her. It's hilt just a few inches from grabbing, where it always seemed to be.

"Because my people have been divided for quite some time ever since the civil war. Possibly longer."

"Civil war?" Gandalf asked. "I recall no such events in your histories."

"That is because it has not been long enough to become history. It happened in my life time and has still yet to be resolved, despite what Aelle has proclaimed."

"How have we not heard of such news and what happened to cause such things to escalate?"

"My people have never trusted those who are not one of us. It is why they raided and never traded. That is until a king of my people, King Bjorn, ventured out to the lands of the west, seeking out new treasures. It was then that he met the dwarves of Khazad and for the first time, began a market of trade.

"Since then my people have continued to trade with the vestur dwarves. But one hundred years ago we stopped. A great storm came and sunk thirty ships that had tried to make the journey west, all ships sunk except for one. Upon that ship was the King's oldest son, Aelle.

"It was a great loss and Aelle demanded it was a bad omen, a sign that we should go back to the old ways of only raiding. King Tyr proclaimed it to be so but his heir and second son Hymir believed differently. When Hymir took the throne he proclaimed that when the first ice melted, they would set sail for the west again.

"But that spring an army from the south west came to our lands and there was no sparring for warriors to set sail. A man by the name of Mordu came from the lands of Mordor." At the name, Gandalf shifted as a disturbed look came to his face but Thyra ignored it as she continued. "Mordu approached King Hymir and offered him a deal. He said he spoke for a great lord from the earlier ages and wanted an alliance. Hymir revoked the deal and ran the army from his lands.

"For forty years king Hymir reigned our people well. He spoke often of sailing west again but things kept happening. Timber for the boats failed to be delivered. Attacks just before departure delayed sailing inevitably. One day, when he went out to investigate such coincidental happenings, there was an ambush and he was killed. His death caused a crack within the unity of my people that fractured when it was time for his heir to ascend."

"How so?" Thorin asked.

"There were disagreements on who would take the throne. Hvitserk, Hymir's eldest son was the bastard son of his wife. Hymir treated him like his own and proclaimed him to be the next in line. But there were discrepancies of his right to the throne because of his blood, despite Hymir's proclamation that he was the heir.

"Because of this, Aelle stepped up and offered himself as king but again there were protests that he was still not the rightful heir. Civil war broke out as my people were broken into factions.

"Aelle sought out aid through Mordu and in the end, his faction won. But Aelle was tricked when he made the deal and we found our nation being ruled by a man who was more puppet than king." Thyra raised her left arm and displayed the branded eye on her forearm. "We do the bidding of what Mordu calls the Eye. Raids were no longer for the benefit of our kingdom but for the sponsorship of the Will of the Eye." She dropped her arm and looked to Gandalf and Thorin. "You speak of a stirring of evil, but it is far from a stirring, it is a monsoon and it is headed to these lands."

Silence overtook them as they processed this new information. An eerie atmosphere, empty of any consolation, hung in the air. Thorin took in every word and rolled it over into his mind until a thought came forward. A thought that reminded him again that Thyra was dangerous. At the moment, not to him, but he was thinking of the future. Thyra had, in short, admitted to working for his enemies. This new found knowledge suddenly made him wary of her presence her in the west.

"And why exactly are you here then? Asha told me they found you among a shipwreck of your slain kinsmen," Thorin said with a guarded tone. "If you are a pawn of the enemy, then I cannot assume anything else than that you are a spy. You said that Aelle did not want to venture west, so are you here under his master's orders? If so, what reason do you have that I should not strike you down here and now."

For anyone else he would not have been so blunt but he knew the girl could handle it. He also knew that he needed to keep the welfare of his future protected. Asha trusted her, but how much did Asha really know. Did Asha only see her as a survivor and refugee? Did Asha not see the potential danger she was entrusting into her inner circle?

His tone had been sharp and his face hardened. To his surprise, Thyra looked uneasy. It was not a reaction he was used to seeing on the girl, but in a blink it was gone. Any earlier fear or concern she might have had, was repressed.

Thyra looked him straight in the eye. A gesture that showed she was openly letting him read her face for any lie.

"As I said, the war has been proclaimed won but there is still a divide, a rebellion," she said steadily. "I was sent to seek aid from Dhom. But when we managed to find it, all was gone. I remembered there were other ports in which we used to trade. So I made the decision to continue to search. However, word had gotten out in my homeland and a party of orcs were sent to hunt us down.

"They caught our ship on fire, forcing us to shore where they had waited for us. Supplies were low and we had already suffered a sickness that had wearied all of us. We were at a disadvantage and it was turned into a slaughter...the next day is when Asha found us. To answer your question directly, no, I am not here to spy. Nor do plan to provide any aid to your enemies that would be advantageous against your people."

She offered nothing more and while Thorin knew there was more, he was willing to let it go. At this moment he was satisfied that Thyra was not a threat to his people or the future of his kingdom. She was just another victim. While he was still disturbed by her earlier information, he had other things to think about, like reclaiming his own home first, then defending it. Then perhaps he could think of others. But it did not escape him how disturbed Gandalf was as he sat silently, with his eyes unfocused, as he meditated to himself.

"What where the discrepancies between the rightful heir?" It was Bilbo who spoke. Curious and ever sharp Bilbo, had found that the story was missing a piece. "You said the heir was chosen not by birth or blood. Then how is it that Hvitserk did not have the right blood? What grounds did Aelle say he was the rightful heir?"

Again all eyes of those present turned to Thyra who looked more tight lipped than ever.

"The tradition of the throne being passed down has never been a birth right but a place earned and deserved," she began hesitantly. "It began at the time where history becomes legend." She looked to Thorin. "Your people had Durin." She looked to Thrade. "And your mother's people had Brimir." She paused for a moment before continuing. "My people had Ragnar."

"He possessed an ability to summon an insurmountable strength. A gift from the gods." Thyra hesitated, her eyes flashing to Fili before she continued. "We call it Reiði blóð...blood rage as you would say. Ragnar was a warrior within our people and the king whose name has been lost to us believed that his power was a sign from the gods. The king named Ragnar his heir and he was proclaimed king instantly. From then on, his blood reigned and led the Régínn.

"When it came time for a new reign, the holder of Reiði blóð become heir. For generations, the throne was always passed down to the descendent that possessed the ability. A second son, a nephew, a sister, a grandson. It was an unpredictable trait, sometimes it skipped generations, while other generations had many to possess the Reiði blóð. In these cases it was the one who possessed the most occurrences of it."

"What do you mean occurrences?" Fili had been the one to ask this question. His voice held something higher than curiosity. Like he was pondering and analyzing something within his mind.

Thyra did not look at him when she answered. "One must call upon Reiði blóð in order to use it," Thyra explained. "They must enter a certain state of mind. Once within that mind their senses are heightened. They become stronger and faster than what should be possible. All the while, certain senses become blocked out. They become immune to pain, immune to discomfort. They do not feel the strain of fatigue, therefore they can continue to fight far longer than their enemy. It takes a lot in order to enter such a state, mentally and physically. That is why those who had more recorded accounts of it are considered more worthy.

"The Régínn were obsessed with it, believing that their leaders were gods themselves, therefore making our people blessed. But as time went on the Reiði blóð became less and less. For a while my people resorted to incest in hopes to preserve the ability but a time came that the king came upon his death bed and there was no Reiði blóð to take up the throne. So he chose his third son who had proven himself the best leader of his siblings. From then on, that was how it was then done for a half millennia.

"The Régínn have never questioned the decision of our King's since then and the Reiði blóð soon became a myth. That is until it manifested within a young girl during the King Hymir's reign. When word got out that there was one who possessed the Reiði blóð, it caused a disruption within my people. People called for the girl to be crowned immediately and there was a shift amongst the people. She was nine years old...far too young to lead a people and the king knew this. Worried that someone would take advantage of her, as she was still a child and had a lack of knowledge in politics, she was sent away to live in a quiet village that did not know of her. It was for her safety, but most of all, it was for the balance of the people.

"With time, people settled down and accepted Hymir's decision to keep Hvitserk as his heir. Hvitserk had proven himself a formidable warrior in the raids he had led. As well as defending our Kingdom against the men from the south west.

"But when Hymir died in the ambush that ended his life, acceptance of his decisions were questioned with his absence. Aelle was the only survivor of the ambush that was more of a slaughter than an attack. When he came back, he claimed he had been possessed by Reiði blóð in order to survive. And it was not the only claim he made," she said stonley. "He also proclaimed himself the rightful heir to the throne. He claimed the gods chose him just as Ragnar was chosen.

"His words brought contention amongst my people. Those who still believed the Reiði blóð was to rule them supported Aelle. Those who believed the old ways dead and still felt loyalty to the deceased Hymir, supported Hvitserk. And then there was a third group. Ironically, Aelle's words, while they played to his advantage, also backfired on him. With his talks of the return of Reiði blóð, it brought back memories of the young girl and again my people were split apart. Thus began the civil war."

Her dark eyes flashed to Fili almost nervously. They lingered on him, reading him closely, as if watching and waiting for a reaction. The action did not go unnoticed.

Fili had listened intently to Thyra's words, all the while, in the back of his mind, he tried to piece everything together. Today was not the first time he had heard Thyra speak of the Reiði blóð.

Most of the time when she spoke in her mother tongue it only sounded like gibberish to him. He could never decipher where a word ended and another began. However, last night it had been simple enough that his mind was able to process and remember it. It had taken him a moment when she had first said it but eventually he had recognized it from the previous night. Now, as he caught her nervous glances, he began to recall everything she had told him in the last twenty-four hours.

His eyes shot to her arm where the vein like tattoo was inked to her inner arm. Thyra had told him the meaning of that tattoo. She had said it meant Reiði blóð.

Suddenly everything that she was saying locked into place, the reality of what her words meant. He remembered Thyra speaking how she went to live with her grandfather when she was young. And when she came back, things were different. According to what she had just said, there were only two people who possessed Reiði blóð, the young girl and the current king. There was another detail she had said, the Reiði blóð was from those who descended from a royal bloodline.

He was hit with a question. If the Reiði blóð came from the royal line and Thyra possessed it, did that make her part of the royal line? If so, just how close to the line was she?

His eyes bugged at his revelations and wonderments. Immediately he looked up to find that Thyra was already staring back at him. His mouth opened as he took in a deep breath to blurt out the very same questions that his mind had just formed. However the words stopped in his mouth when he saw the dark look that she was giving him.

His blood chilled. Never had he seen her look quite as unnerving as she did now. Slowly, and very slightly, she shook her head from side to side in warning.

He found his brow furrowing but found himself closing his lips and nodding his head in the smallest of acquiesce. Immediately her face softened and she seemed to almost look grateful. However Fíli was not about to let it go completely. He gave his own silent look of demand that told her that he would expect an answer. She did not seem happy about it as she kept her eyes locked on him.

Fili did not back down and he held her gaze until it was she, not he, who broke contact. Fili grinned to himself in victory. Though it did not last long as his moved back to what exactly he was keeping silent about, at least for the time being.

When he had first met her, all she ever seemed to say to him was how ill fit he was to be a king. He had thought her speaking from observance, but now, he was not so sure if it was out of experience more so than observance. If so, why was she not sympathetic to his situation as an heir. If what he believed was true, he thought she would understand. Then again, there wasn't any discrepancies to him being heir. In his world, the crown was passed down to the oldest and closest male relative. Fili was the closest male relation to Thorin. So perhaps their situations were not so similar. But despite this, Fili wanted answers. And he was determined to get them.

Yikes that was a lot of back ground and next chapter will have more but then we are moving on to the Mirkwood which I am excited about. Thank you all to those who favorited and followed as well as to those who went the extra mile to let me know your thoughts. I am certainly recommitted to finishing this story and appreciate all of you who love it!