Author's Note: This is a monster chapter, but my favorite yet. Hope you enjoy. Inspired by house of the falling sun, who gave me awesome ideas for dialogue. This chapter is dedicated to her. There is some "romantic bonding" time for the readers who enjoy that artsy-fartsy stuff ;) Thanks Fangirlatyourservice, UKReader, Freydris, house of the falling sun, lathalea, Adeleidhis, and SiaSaySomeday for the reviews :) Reviews are much loved and appreciated, so are the favorites and follows.
Disclaimer: I do not own "A Million Miles Away" by The Plimsouls.
Chapter Four: A Million Miles Away
It felt like they had traveled a million freaking miles. Okay, Rue admitted she was being overdramatic, but the endless galloping on the pony, and the setting-up camp night after night was insane. It felt fast-paced, but at the same time, peaceful, especially the nights. Rue would never tell Thorin this, but it was the best part of the day for her. It was the fourth night―see, she was being overdramatic―four nights was not that long, when she gained the courage to act more like Rue-Rue from the hood. All right, she didn't really have a cool ghetto nickname, but Nat liked to call her Rue-Rue.
Dim sky was above, light-bulb like stars casting an uncanny glow on the woods around them. The stars provided the only light; the moon hovering behind pilfers of feathery, blackened clouds.
"So," Rue started tentatively, hugging her stumpy knees, "what's it like being a king?" She gave a little shrug.
Thorin sat at least a foot away from her, going through a collection of nuts he'd picked and deemed safe. He was giving them one last once over before they gorged themselves.
"I am not a king," he stated irritably, glowering at her momentarily.
"But you're King Under the Mountain, right?" Rue asked, hoping she hadn't mistaken Thorin's identity or something. He was King Under the Mountain, right?
"Yes, I am the rightful King, but I have no―" Thorin stopped mid-sentence, glaring ferociously― "Do not speak on matters you do not understand." That hurt.
She nodded. "Sorry." Rue brought her hands closer to the fire, trying to focus on the writhing flames, and not the fact that her feelings were hurt.
There was long, tense silence. The oakenshield branch Thorin carried around was propped against his knees, which she only noticed out of the corner of her eye because she refused to stare at him when she was this emotional. Why did Thorin have to be so grumpy all the time?
"Miss Rue," Thorin broke the silence gruffly, his voice full of aggravation. She ventured a glance at him, gazing at the ground. Rue slowly outstretched her hand toward him when she noticed he was holding out a handful of nuts. Briefly, she had taken in the sight of his repentant expression, his blue eyes roaming everything else but her.
She felt him place the nuts in her hand, their fingers brushing, Rue feeling a slight chill go up her spine. Was there a ghost around? If anything would cheer her up, it would be her cello, but that was a no-go since this was Middle-earth, so then that left ghost hunting.
Rue ate one nut slowly, peeling back a brown shell, nibbling on it hungrily. She wasn't going to lie: she loved food with a passion. And that was probably why she was no size zero. That was probably one of the worst things about Middle-earth: the food and no TV. How many episodes had she missed of the new season of Degrassi? She needed her Eli Goldsworthy time.
The quiet became too much. A couple of birds squawking from afar were having a better conversation than she was.
She cleared her throat awkwardly. "Look, Thorin, I know I'm pretty bad company."
"You are not."
Her eyes widened, mouth hung open. Rue looked at him, Thorin averting his gaze, busying his hands as he put more kindling in the fire. His face was contorted in some kind of painful mess. It was weird, an unusual expression she had only seen him wear the night he'd gotten in that bar fight with Naji. Oh, gosh, had she upset him?
Rue raked a hand through her mane of crazy, ashy blonde hair. "I didn't mean to upset you. And I―I know if we were somewhere else, you probably wouldn't even talk to me, but you're forced to because I'm the only living thing around here." She took those words back when she saw the pony, jerking a thumb the animal's way. "Except for Ponyta, Ponyta is alive. And the animals in the woods―but yeah."
Thorin peered at her for several long moments, seeming genuinely perplexed by his furrowed eyebrows.
"You named the pony," he said curiously.
"Oh? Yeah. Sorry I forgot to tell you. It was just kinda in my head, you know."
"Outlandish claims seem to stay in your head," Thorin growled, big fingers clutching at the leaves below them.
Rue blinked, shaking her head, leaning backwards in anticipation for the worst. "Wh―what do you mean?"
Thorin's gaze froze on hers, intense and prodding. It seemed like the world around her stopped for one moment, everything filling with vivid color as his next words slipped from his mouth.
"Your lowly opinion of yourself."
Rue was stunned, feeling as though she had just seen something as utterly ridiculous as herself winning the Miss America pageant. Thorin―Big Bad King Under the Mountain―hadn't just said that, had he? Her chest felt tight, lungs filled with tar. He had just hit the nail on the head. She swallowed hard.
And before she could mull things over, Rue buried her head in her hands, blubbering on about everything that was eating away at her insides. Gosh, she sounded pathetic.
"I've tried to help myself, you know. Natalie bought me Life Code by Dr. Phil―" She paused, wiping the sudden rush of tears from her eyes, realizing Thorin didn't know who the hell Dr. Phil was― "Sorry, sorry, I just―there's so much pressure in my world and that's why I'm like this. I just always feel like―" Rue hiccupped between tears― "Nobody's ever good enough. Never me. Being here feels scary, but free." Rue waved her arms around like some frantic crack addict without their fix. She ranted passionately, rocking slowly in her eagerness, legs twitching. "Everything is so impersonal, Thorin. We get called by numbers. It's like we have everything at our fingertips, ways to communicate with people from across the world in seconds, cars, food, but we want more!" She gained the courage to stare Thorin right in the eye, sniveling. "Everybody wants more in my world. Nothing is good enough. Nobody is good enough. People―" Rue pointed a jerky finger up at the starlit sky― "They want to live up there! We've been to the moon! It's just too much sometimes. People have to pay rent, pay for every little freaking thing. People have to pay to park their cars, Thorin, and then pay to insure them."
She stopped ranting, wiping her eyes, feeling…alive. Her dark eyes were electrified.
Thorin seemed mystified, blue eyes on fire, mouth slightly parted. King Under the Mountain was actually mystified by something she had said. Rue wiped away her tears, giving Thorin a sheepish once over. The ecstatic life that had flown through her veins was snuffed out, leaving only her: Rue.
Thorin said deliberately, "Your world seems like an unhappy place." His words echoed in her head again and again. So true.
Rue giggled humorlessly, sniffling some more. "I'm not laughing at what you said, it's just―" She grinned from ear to ear, feeling embarrassed― "Can I tell you something I've never told anyone before?"
Thorin leaned closer, blinking in surprise. A moment later, he nodded stiffly, jaw clenched tightly.
"Here goes nothing," she said dejectedly. Rue couldn't believe she was actually going to tell someone this, especially Thorin, but he was just so…intently quiet, the perfect listener at times when his eyes weren't making judgments he didn't speak aloud. In a splintered voice, she began confessing this one moment she wanted, this one thing she needed before she died.
"There's this song and it's called 'Heroes,' and ever since I heard it and watched this girl standing in a car while going through this tunnel, I just want that feeling. That feeling of being…free. To feel infinite for once, like what happens to us doesn't define us, like we can make our own way in life. In my world―it feels pretty far-fetched, but I think here―" She vaguely waved twitchy fingers at the woods around them― "It's possible. Like we can be free and make a difference. 'We can be heroes just for one day.'" Now she was quoting songs and movies. Lame.
Hollow silence echoed in the woods. This strange look pulsed in Thorin's eyes as his gaze fell on the bed of leaves, twigs, and grass scattered at their feet. He slowly nodded to himself, deep in thought, eyes screaming he had a million different responses that he would never dare say.
Maybe Natalie and Thorin weren't exactly the same. If she had told Nat, she might have called Rue a "dreamer" and scoffed for a few seconds before apologizing. But Thorin didn't scoff, snicker, or blink in confusion as though she was explaining the beauty of Snape's character to a bunch of Snape haters. No. He seemed authentically stirred by her words, like what she said had actually mattered.
Rue popped a nut in her mouth, slowly chewing on the crunchiness. Stealing a glance at Thorin, she felt her cheeks heat up in embarrassment as his eyes froze on hers. His gaze was steely, oddly…emotional.
She grinned shyly. "Thanks for not laughing at me."
Thorin shook his head, uttering almost inaudibly, "There is nothing to laugh at."
Rue was writing her seventh diary entry since they had escaped Bree Foxface style. Her tongue poked out of her mouth while the words flowed from her pen.
Dear Natalie,
Ever since I told Thorin about the moment I want to have before I die, he's been different. I guess a little nicer. Or easier to talk to. When we ride on Ponyta, we aren't silent every minute now. I mean, sometimes we're silent for maybe an hour, but usually I start talking and he listens. He told me about his two nephews Fili and Kili. He said very little, but I think it was enough to form some kind of impression. Kili is reckless. Fili is responsible, and according to Thorin, sometimes too "secretive," which makes him uncomfortable. That's one of the things I've learned about Thorin. He HATES secrets. As I'm writing in this, he keeps looking at me, like he's insanely curious. I explained to him these are just my feelings and thoughts, things that don't matter much, but he still gives me this pointed look. Thorin has fed me and is taking me to the Blue Mountains first before we go off to the Shire. So I'm really appreciative. Thorin has this meeting in―I think it's Ered Luin?―about the quest to reclaim his home. I hope it goes well. I think Thorin deserves some happy time. It seems like he hasn't been happy in a longtime. You said I used to have these "magic healing" abilities to make people feel better. So maybe I can cheer him up a little.
Love Rue-Rue
She shut her diary, beaming as she picked up a stick. They had been playing this game nearly every night, tossing sticks, and whomever's stick landed the farthest got to ask any question they wanted. Rue knew Thorin only agreed to this game because he always won. But she didn't mind. It wasn't like she had a gazillion secrets to hide.
"You wanna play toss-the-stick?" she asked from her spot against a moss-covered tree, yawning.
Thorin was standing by the pony, bending down as he checked on Ponyta's horseshoes. He gave a gruff nod. She knew that meant yes.
"All right, here I go," she said playfully, throwing the stick. It soared about two-feet before touching down on the dirt pathetically. She lost.
Thorin spun around; closing the distance between them as he came to stand by Rue's sitting form, his beautiful coat twirling around his thick legs. He quickly picked up a stick, his big fingers gripping the wood, expression unreadable. She wondered why Thorin even agreed to play this game. It didn't seem like him to participate in something so…silly.
He threw the stick, his settling inches in front of hers.
She exhaled humorously. "Ask away." Rue twiddled with her fingers. Usually, Thorin's questions were simple, but sometimes they hit too close to home. Sometimes, she felt like he was testing the waters with each question, seeing what he was allowed to talk about and what not. Rue felt weird about it. Why did Thorin even want to test the waters, like her past, like her life mattered? It puzzled her.
Thorin studied her for too long, Rue shifting uncomfortably in her seat. His eyes traveled over her face, lips pursed tightly.
"Can't think of nothing?"
Thorin shook his head, eyes softening for a split-second before hardening. "What is your happiest memory?" His hands were behind his back now as his gaze fell to the ground, eyes narrowing.
"I gotta think about that for a minute," Rue admitted, scratching her chin. "Probably something to do with Natalie. She always makes me happy." Just the thought of her wild cousin made her grin.
"She is your cousin, is she not?"
Rue looked up at him, nodding, feeling ecstatic that Thorin had remembered her telling him briefly about Natalie days ago.
"There was this time," she began raptly, "that Nat and I stayed out all night during black Friday. Black Friday is this sorta holiday when clothes, items, and things go on sale."
"Sale?" Thorin prodded.
"It's when things are sold at low value."
He nodded. Rue chose her next words carefully: the happiest memory.
"We were just driving around all night. We stood in these crazy lines; saw these two guys fistfight over a waffle maker. And then went to this club, which didn't go so well when Nat said something to some girl and we almost got in a fight―" Rue sat up straighter in her enthusiasm― "But then it was like four in the morning, and we were waiting for another sale to start. We drove to this pretty spot in Stockton, which they aren't that many, so it felt kinda like a big deal then. There were trees, a soft breeze, and a creek with a bridge over it. And I―" Rue reddened, slightly embarrassed― "I realized then that maybe things aren't always so good all the time, but when they are, it makes even the simplest things beautiful."
She hugged herself, shivering from the cold. Rue tugged her cloak tighter around herself, venturing a timid glance at Thorin. He was staring down at her, eyes never looking away for one second. He had that scary intensity in his eyes. In the distance, she heard the soft whistle of wind brushing through leaves above them and animal calls, but all she could think about was the fact that she had revealed too much to Thorin. She'd barely met him a week ago, but…oh, gosh. Maybe, possibly, even though unlikely, they could be friends one day? Or maybe it was just her being delusional.
Thorin's rough voice ended the silence, his words sending goose bumps prickling her flesh.
"Do not ever see things different."
What?
Rue blinked at him in surprise, Thorin refusing to stare at her, fiddling with his coat. She was open-mouthed, wondering how they had gone from tossing sticks to talking about the simplest things being the most beautiful.
Rue swallowed hard, awkwardly saying, "Uh, do―do―you wanna play again?"
Thorin didn't answer with words, and instead picked up two sticks. He handed one to her, the calloused flesh of his index finger brushing against hers. Rue took the stick, slightly shaking from the cold.
She furrowed her eyebrows in mock concentration, chucking the stick effortlessly. Certainly, she was going to lose, since she hadn't managed to beat Thorin once ever since they started playing this game. Seconds later, Thorin flung his stick lazily, his forearm hardly shooting out. His stick landed with a soft thud in a bed of pine needles, inches behind Rue's stick. She was in shock, gasping. After all this time, she had finally won.
"I actually won?" she sputtered in disbelief, smiling. And then it hit her. Rue looked from Thorin, to the stick on the ground. He had let her win…but why? She shook her head, the smile falling from her face. Wait―maybe she was wrong. Why would he lose on purpose? Thorin hated questions, and probably would hate a situation even more where she could ask any question she wanted. Rue leaned further back against the tree. "Thorin, if you don't want me to ask anything too weird or personal I won't…"
He gave her a once over, scowling. "Ask what you wish." His tone suggested anything but that.
Rue cleared her throat, realizing it was sore. "So what's it like being a Dwarf?" She gave a little shrug, really curious about the happenings and culture of Dwarves. Were they all like Thorin? She doubted it. From her brief experience of being around the Ri brothers, she had figured out they were loyal to each other like nobody's business and tough. That question could be seen as a generality, and not too personal, so Thorin should be good with that. At least she hoped he would be.
Thorin inched closer to her, his boots less than a few inches away from her spot against the tree. He began intently, "We are an honorable race, loyal, passionate about everything. The littlest things to the race of Men, matter greatly to us. That is why Dwarves have fought in many wars. We―" He stopped mid-sentence, his jaw tightening.
She stared at him in awe, curious to what he was going to say, but didn't push it. "Are there any traditions or things Dwarves do differently? I mean, my dad was Dominican, and Nat is from that side of the family. They speak Spanish, call me the 'Snowflake,' and are totally traditional." Rue beamed softly, shrugging once again. "Sorry, I was only supposed to ask you one question, but I'm curious." She was hoping Thorin wasn't going to have one of those mood swings, where he stormed off to brood.
Thorin was gazing down at her, his blue eyes flashing peculiarly. "Braids are worn by Dwarves for significance. Each one means something different. They are mourning braids, sibling braids, Dwarfling braids, courting braids, and braids of war amongst the many. We are a private people, so not many from the race of Men know such things." Rue nodded, imagining how many different braids she could wear to signify her life. That was so cool. She wondered what Thorin's braids meant, swallowing a lump the size of an apple. No way was she going to ask. He uttered pensively, "What is Dominican? Are they your clan? Is Spanish the language they speak?"
Rue gave him a crooked grin, the idea of someone from Middle-earth saying "Spanish" and "Dominican" Twilight Zone weird. Sure, she was no Middle-earth Einstein, but even she knew Dominicans and the Spanish language didn't exist here.
"I guess you can kinda say Dominicans are my clan," Rue explained. "They're a race of people from the race of humans. They've got brown skin, crazy hair―" She gestured at her own frizzy hair― "Not everyone looks the same, though. Yep, and Spanish is what they speak. My Spanish isn't too good or else I'd speak it, but I would just embarrass myself." Rue laughed. "Dwarf braids―that's pretty brilliant. I like the idea that you guys aren't ashamed of who you are, that you guys wear something that represents who you are as a person. So many people from my world try hard to be unique and do crazy things, but Dwarves just seem self-assured, like they know that they are unique and don't need to prove it to anyone." Rue reddened, rubbing her hands together. Did she think she was Gandhi? Trying to find meaning in everything. She tentatively glimpsed at Thorin, asking, "So do Dwarves have their own language?"
Thorin's sudden stony silence told her she shouldn't have brought that up. His expression was a mixture of genuine interest―which shocked her―and cageyness.
"We do."
She nodded, understanding from his tone that he didn't want to continue the conversation. Rue stood up, the muscles in her legs creaking as she did so.
"I'll just, I need to―" She gestured to the surrounding woods― "Go to the bathroom."
Thorin stiffened. "Be wary. We are not the only ones who travel these ways." Darkness took over his face. "Do not stray far. Which way will you go?"
Rue pointed behind her. "It looks like the least likely spot dementors will be hiding."
He nodded, frowning. "If you are not back in seven minutes, I will come find you."
Eh? Okay. Rue only nodded, tightening the cloak around her shoulders as she spun around, sauntering past underbrush and sidestepping one particularly long branch. Was it really another week to the Blue Mountains? And then afterwards, they had to travel to the Shire. Spending time with Thorin was always pretty interesting; she just wished…that he didn't seem so paranoid all the time. Like he thought she was going to degrade him or get killed by a pack of fluffy squirrels But there were Orcs in Middle-earth, weren't there? Damn it. She should have watched the movies.
One week later, they had arrived to the Blue Mountains. Over the last three days of riding, mountains had started to loom in the distance; trees returning with a vengeance after tall grasses had taken place for a while. Rue realized that had only been a prelude to the Blue Mountains. They were beautiful snowcapped peaks in the distance, the forest before the mountaintops continually sloping downwards as they neared the Dwarf settlement. Rue thought it was weird to think of it as a "Dwarf settlement," half-expecting the closer they got, for Dwarves the size of Hobbits to be walking around. She had only seen Thorin, Ori, Nori, Dori, and Gimli in the second film, so for all she knew, they might have been considered giant Dwarves. But there were no Dwarves in the surrounding forest―nothing alive except animals, plants, and trees.
Nearing the end of the fourteenth day of travel, the sky darkening, Thorin slid off the pony. He motioned for her to follow. The ever-growing night cloaked the forest in darkness and the way the pony slanted downwards was no help for someone as clumsy as Rue. She swung one leg over, determined to get off Ponyta and not fall on her butt.
She thought she had it in the bag, landing on both feet with a soft harrumph. But thanks to the lack of light or her poor judgment, she didn't see the rock inches from her feet. Rue went to walk forward, intending to follow Thorin. One second she was a happy camper, the next she was nearly sprawling forward, arms flailing.
Before she knew what was happening, Thorin was right in front of her, gripping her shoulders to stop her fall, long nose rumpling in an expression she could barely make out. Instinctively, Rue's hands reached for something to steady herself. Unfortunately, it turned out to be Thorin's shoulders. Uh oh. She was open-mouthed, feeling scared as hell. Okay, so Thorin was a great listener, oddly perceptive, and tough, but he wasn't exactly the kind of person you could accidentally touch and feel like everything would be okay. He was downright intimidating.
Rue shook her head quickly. "Sorr―sorry, I didn't mean to trip. I just can't see very well, and―" Suddenly, this awkward silence ensued as she heard him breathing softly. Rue heard herself breathing, too, her breaths more shallow and hot. They were still gripping each other.
Slowly, they pulled away from each other.
She could make out shadows of Thorin's face, seeing glimpses of a scowl, his eyes intense. Oh, no, not that look.
Rue wiped her hands on her cloak, sidestepping away from the rock.
"So, are we going to walk the pony down?" she asked, voice splintered.
Faintly, she noticed Thorin nod. "That is the intent."
His silhouette neared the pony, and she could make out he had grabbed the reins. Simultaneously, they started walking downhill, skirting past thickets of trees. Rue kept one hand on a tree the entire time, too nervous for some reason.
Minutes later, the trees parted, revealing two stone fortresses. The air was chilly, Rue hugging herself, teeth chattering. Behind the stone fortresses was a stone bridge, torches lined up in sconces on both stone structures.
Thorin walked onwards first. From both stone fortresses came three Dwarves, dressed in armor, wielding axes, their long beards glinting underneath the dim starlight.
Rue stayed a little ways back, shifting her weight from one foot to the next, holding onto Ponyta. Thorin talked to them briefly, all three Dwarves bowing to him like he was a king. Wait, he was a king. The sudden rustle of wind muffled their voices, but she made out something about how there was a human woman, which was obviously her.
After a minute or so, Thorin beckoned her impatiently.
"Come."
Rue swallowed hard, nervous as she led the pony, peering at her shoes. She could feel their eyes on her, staring up and smiling. When in doubt, just smile.
They sauntered past the Dwarves, who seemed to be guards, each of them bowing to Thorin once again. Rue expected Thorin to walk in front of her and to act all-so important because he was, but he stayed by her side.
Their feet thudded against stone as they ambled across the bridge. Rue peered beneath the bridge, giving a tiny gasp when she saw a chasm below, hints of a green-blue river swirling in the chasm. Two Dwarves passed them, heading the opposite way.
She heard them greet Thorin, saying something like, "Welcome back, King Under the Mountain." Both of them bowed, hurrying along in the opposite direction.
Rue felt in awe of the place, especially as she really saw what was on the other side of the bridge. There was a colorful village on a mountainside, two snowcapped mountain peaks winking underneath moonlight.
"So…you rule here?" she asked, squeaking involuntarily.
"Yes," he answered simply, gaze lowered.
"This is beautiful, Thorin," she whispered in awe, gaping like a fish.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him look at her.
"It is nothing to the likes of Erebor," he grumbled bitterly. Suddenly, he was sneering, the tip of his boots scuffing against stone in anger.
She was tempted to touch his forearm and tell him it was okay, that the Dragon Smaug was going to get his because karma was a bitch, but she remained silent.
Within minutes, they had reached the end of the bridge, stepping into the village, which glowed orangey-red thanks to several fires going. Rue watched in wonder as legions of Dwarves trampled past her. Nearly everyone wore tunics or robes, their shorter figures sturdy and strong. She noticed something funny right away. Where were all the Dwarf women at? Did feministing need to get up in here? There was nothing but men, and the occasional stray child―Dwarfling―here and there. Most of the Dwarves blinked at her in surprise, but when they saw Thorin, they bowed immediately. Thorin would give a tilt of his head here and there, seeming in spite of his regality, strangely humble. It was…endearing, something that made Rue want to gush over him with a bucket load of compliments.
They passed strange shops and wooden houses, little cute chimneys on top of them. And then they stopped in front of a particular wooden house, Thorin groaning in frustration.
Rue asked carefully, "Uh…is this where your wife lives?" From living in Bree, she had learned pretty much everyone in Middle-earth was married. She wasn't sure if it was the same with Dwarves, but probably.
Thorin shook his head, his teeth grinding. "If it were a wife, I am certain it would be easier to endure. It is my sister's home."
Rue was about to ask something when the front door slammed open, a young man running out the house, tangles of chestnut brown hair flying around his face. She was taken aback by the softness of his features, and the fact that he was a Dwarf with only scruff on his face. Cool. He was oddly…pretty. Almost Leggy pretty.
"Uncle, how did the meeting with the Wandering Wizard go?" His eyes were big in excitement. "So when are we leaving for the quest? I am already packed. Is―"
Thorin interrupted strictly, "I told you already, you will not be going."
He gave a little shrug, grinning crookedly. "Uncle, but if―"
"Kili, stop with your incessant pleas to go. I already said you were not going, and that is final," Thorin growled in warning. So this was Kili.
Rue looked from Thorin to Kili, awkwardly stepping backwards, trying to be as discreet as possible. Hey, everybody had family drama, even Dwarves, which made her feel like maybe they weren't so fantastical after all.
Kili suddenly noticed her, eyes narrowing defensively. "What is a human woman doing here? Uncle, what is this? Why is she here?" He pointed at her, scowling. Now she could see the uncle-nephew resemblance.
Thorin barreled past Kili impatiently. "That is none of your concern. Tie up the pony."
Rue felt uncomfortable as she passed Kili the reins, his dark eyes critical. When Thorin was out of earshot, she said lamely, "Hi, I don't mean to be an inconvenience. The name's Rue. So you're Kili, huh?" She had been through this routine many times of entering people's houses, someone complaining about not wanting her and Mom living there. The harsh memories nearly made her shake in frustration.
Kili was about to open his mouth to say something when Thorin spoke.
"Miss Rue, come inside."
Rue followed him down a stone path, and then past two wooden posts on both sides of the door. Thorin opened the door, entering first, the smell of cheese tantalizing the air. Rue couldn't help but drool.
The front room was tiny, simple chairs made of mahogany that stood on richly woven rugs, one couch set by a fireplace. Candlelight flickered throughout the room. Rue gulped, feeling sick.
"Dis," Thorin called, his eyes narrowing in slits.
From a doorway connecting the front room to what she was guessing was the kitchen, came a short woman, blackish gray-streaked hair cloaking her face. Dis took in the sight of Thorin first, placing one hand on her hip, and then her green eyes landed on Rue. Oh, no. Fleetingly, Rue noticed Dis had traces of faint beard. Were Dwarf women supposed to have beards?
"Thorin, what is this?" Dis jerked a finger at Rue, not hiding the disdain in her face. Hey, Rue had kind of rhymed.
"Hi, my name's Rue, nice to meet you. You've got a cute home here," she introduced herself awkwardly, sort of outstretching her hand for a handshake, but maybe Dwarves didn't shake hands.
Dis's eyebrows wrinkled in confusion. "A woman from the race of Men, Thorin? What of it?"
Thorin's nostrils flared, eyes darkening.
Dis shook her head. "What did you do now?"
Wow, they must have known each other really well. All Thorin had to do was give her a certain look and she knew something had happened.
"It wasn't his fault," Rue spoke up frantically. "Miss Dis, what happened was―"
"Uncle?" A blonde-haired guy―Dwarf―poked his head out from the doorway, smiling as he entered the room. Rue assumed this was Fili. She was starting to notice something funny here. Dwarf siblings had names that rhymed. Who would have thought?
Thorin had this pained expression on his face, like he couldn't take it anymore. Maybe Rue should just leave.
"In the kitchen. Now," Dis told Thorin bossily.
"Do not use that tone with me," Thorin sneered, trailing behind Dis. He quickly turned to peer over his shoulder. "Fili, take Miss Rue outside." And then he disappeared into the kitchen.
Rue was expecting Fili to start rambling on about how she was human, so his response shocked her.
"Miss Rue, is it?" he asked, motioning for them to go outside.
"Yeah." She nodded, grateful Fili seemed laid back about the whole human thing.
They were outside the front door within seconds, the rising tension in the house audible from the stone path leading to the home. Biting cold kissed Rue's skin, goose bumps riddling her body.
Dis and Thorin could be heard shouting from outside.
"YOU FOUGHT THE MASTER OF BREE'S SON? ARE YOU MAD?"
"YOU DID NOT HEAR THE THINGS HE WAS SAYING!"
"OH, I HAVE HEARD THEM PLENTY OF TIMES BEFORE!"
Fili grinned humorlessly. "There is a ghost story the Dwarves tell the Dwarflings of a vengeful, mourning, yelling ghost to explain the shouting coming from our home. Mom and Uncle tend to have unforgettable rows."
Rue felt awful, squinting as they left the stone path. They headed down a rocky path curving past the houses ahead.
"Well, uh, my mom has had some pretty unforgettable fights, too," she offered lamely. When she was a kid, there were always epic arguments Mom had with the people they were staying with at the time. They always had some dramatic exit. Majority of the time. And being here, stepping inside someone else's home, listening to Dis disapprove of her because she was human brought back all those awful memories. The longer she stayed here, the more un-fantasy like Middle-earth became.
Fili nodded politely, ambling along with cocky self-assurance, the funky braids on his mustache bobbing a bit.
"Did you meet my brother, Miss Rue?"
"Oh, yeah," Rue said quickly, half-heartedly hoping they weren't going wherever Kili was.
"I assume my brother was just as impolite as my mother?" Fili wondered, eyebrows traveling up his forehead.
"No." She shook her head, lying. Well, if she was going to be stuck here for now, might as well not talk crap or anything. Kili seemed like the confrontational type, at least going off how Thorin described him and their brief meeting.
"You do not need to lie. I know my brother. His manners are nonexistent," Fili said, tightening his fur-lined coat.
They stopped walking, standing next to some barn, the wooden doors open, softly creaking.
Fili poked his head inside. "Kili, did you scare Uncle's guest with your poor manners?"
Seconds later, Kili came barreling outside, whipping his head back and forth frantically.
He started in one big breath, "She is of the race of Men. You know as well as I the warnings Uncle has given us―"
"Need I remind you Uncle can be unreasonable," Fili said pointedly. "As in he believes we are not going on the quest, when―" Fili puffed out his chest arrogantly― "I obviously am. Only Dwarves with beards are allowed on the quest." He gave a little snicker. Hey, Kili didn't have a beard―
"But," Kili sputtered angrily, leering, pointing a finger past the barn, "I heard Gloin was considering bringing Gimli along, and he is a Dwarfling!" He stomped dramatically. "And my beard is coming in!"
"WHAT?" Rue cried out, gasping, bouncing on the balls of her feet eagerly. Gimli? Did he live here?
Fili and Kili gave her a double take, both in stunned silence.
"Does Gimli live here?" she squealed excitedly. "Can I meet him? He probably knows the Guardians of Middle-earth."
Kili gave a wryly smile. "Gimli knows of a human woman. That is strange."
"Oh, we haven't met," Rue, explained. "I just heard of him."
"You heard of Gimli son of Gloin?" Fili asked dubiously.
"Uh, yeah." She shrugged. Okay, she wasn't sure if she was supposed to tell Fili and Kili she was from another world. She guessed not.
"You heard her, let's take her to meet Gimli," Kili said a little too eagerly. "He is training right now, trying to wield a sword the way you do brother. He's always trying to be like you, which I do not understand."
Kili started walking past the barn with some attitude in his gait, Fili following him. Rue tagged along, smiling toothily. She was going to meet the Dwarf who had jumped in a pile of Orcs to save his friend. Brilliant.
"Gimli is not the only one who tries to take after me," Fili crowed.
Kili's jaw dropped. "What are you trying to say?"
Fili shrugged coolly, leading the way now.
They passed a few more houses, the whiff of campfire smoke heavy in the air. Rue squinted in the distance, eyes widening when she saw one particular big campfire and what appeared to be training grounds. There were all kinds of weapons lined on this wooden shelf.
There was one Dwarf by his lonesome, tangle of red hair flying wildly as he spun, swinging his sword, giving out a cry.
He struck these dummies made of straw, grinning crookedly. "Ha-ha, take that, you mongrel, you Elf." That was weird. Rue could've sworn Gimli was friends with Leggy, who was an Elf.
She couldn't help herself, her backpack thudding against her shoulders as she raced for Gimli. Rue flew past the campfire, not thinking. She gripped Gimli's shoulders, spinning him around.
He stumbled back in surprise, snarling, "Who is that? Kili! I told you not to sneak up on me. I am a very dangerous Dwarf, and I know your uncle would have my head if I stuck you with a sword."
Kili was howling in laughter, Fili nodding and giving a grin that said, "Yeah, right."
Gimli turned around, mouth hanging open when he saw Rue.
It was in that moment she realized the whole-grabbing-Gimli thing had been stupid. Where were her social manners? Apparently nonexistent. But when she saw his face, she was in the shock of her life.
"Gimli?" she asked dubiously.
"Yes, that is my name, lass," Gimli grumbled uncomfortably, eyes narrowing.
"Where's Frodo? Do you know the Guardians of Middle-earth?" she stuttered desperately, half-heartedly attempting to understand what was going on. "What about the ring? Oh, and it was really cool how you saved Aragorn. I never told anyone this, but I always thought it would be cool to hang out with you."
Gimli was taken aback by all her questions, seeming seconds away from using his sword to gut her. She eased her grip, letting him go.
"I know nothing you speak of," Gimli said, irritably grunting, his gaze shifting to Kili and Fili, as if saying, "Where the hell did you find this crazy chick?"
And then in the glimmering firelight, she really saw Gimli's face. He was younger, creases in his face nonexistent, wearing no braids whatsoever. His red hair flew about his shoulders wildly in waves.
It hit her like a freight train.
"This isn't Lord of the Rings!" she cried, grasping her crazy hair. "This is The Hobbit and I never watched that movie―and―" Oh, gosh, she remembered seeing two Hobbit movie trailers, and seeing Dwarves. Lots of them.
Everything made sickening sense now.
Author's Note: I got a little philosophical up in here :) This was a monster chapter, but I really wanted to get to the part where I introduced Gimli. We all love Gimli so I couldn't resist. So now Rue knows she's not in Lord of the Rings. As you can tell, the theme of this fic is totally inspired by The Perks of being a Wallflower film. It's an amazing movie, and if you haven't seen it, go see it. It's The Breakfast Club of Generation Y. That's some high praise. Hey, I saw in a YouTube comment that the second Hobbit trailer for Desolation of Smaug is supposed to be attached to the film Gravity. Is it true? That means October fourth I'm going to be YouTube stalking then :) Someone please tell me!
Please review :) Would love to hear feedback of all sorts. I never really read much philosophical connections between our world and Middle-earth in Hobbit fanfics, so hopefully you enjoyed.