Author's Note: I decided only to use the movie-dialogue during the dining room scene since I feel this scene gets the essence of Thorin's character down to a T. As in what's important to him. Hopefully, it's not too much of an eyesore. I added a few things in there. Forgive me if this chapter has a few grammatical mistakes. I am really, really tired and yep. My excuse is work. Thank you DwarvenWarrior, UKReader, Madame Tortilla, WannaBeNinja, SwanInProgress, writingelabear, house of the falling sun, redhouseclan, anna. pantelarou, Adeleidhis, and Just4Me for reviewing! I will have a response for the anon below :) Also thanks for the favorites and follows.
Disclaimer: I do not own "Paint it Black" by The Rolling Stones. Get it? "Paint it black" because Bilbo just painted his door green. Okay, okay, I know it doesn't make sense. But I love this song.
Chapter Eight: Paint it Black
Thankfully, they were inside the Baggins home, sitting at the crowded table. Thorin ate his food in profuse silence, a ticking in his jaw visible from Rue's seat next to Gimli and Ori. Damn, was he pissed. It seemed like the Dwarves could sense the dark mood, most of them taking uncomfortable glances at Thorin.
From further down the table, Rue could hear Fili and Kili whispering to each other.
"Do you think he will send us back?" Kili mouthed not so discreetly.
Fili shrugged. "He can try."
Rue ate quietly, venturing a glimpse at Gimli, who was getting the stink eye from his dad big time. She had learned from Nori and Ori moments ago that Gloin was not going to send back Gimli since there had been Orcs on the way here. Gloin had said something like, "No choice but to let him come along now. Better him with me than him running into some mangy Orcs on the way back. I might leave him in a village of Men or―" That was when Gimli had sputtered out a counterargument, nearly pouting. Poor Gims.
Rue scanned the table, hearing names being said here and there. The only new faces she remembered the names to, were Dwalin―the dude was pretty unforgettable and supposedly Dis fancied him, Balin, Bofur―the guy was friendly and had a big hat, and Bifur―he had an axe in his head and for some reason no one was freaking out.
Bilbo was standing in the background, looking quite curious and overwhelmed. Rue was tempted to go apologize for coming off like a creeper. Why was it whenever she met someone new in Middle-earth, she went all Edward-Cullen-in-your-face-creepy? It was official. She needed to get out and meet more Dwarves, Hobbits, and Elves. Wait, were they Dwobbits or Dwelves?
The only one with enough guts to break the silence was Balin. Rue gave him a once over, tilting her head. That beard was hella long. Kind of made him look like her hillbilly relatives from Virginia, except Balin wasn't barefoot, chewing on tobacco, or wielding buckshot for―yeah, please don't judge.
"What news from the meeting in Ered Luin?" Balin gazed up once, searching Thorin's face. "Did they all come?" Rue blinked several times, swearing she saw something odd flicker in Balin's eyes.
"Aye," Thorin grunted. "Envoys from all seven kingdoms."
The Dwarves gave medieval versions of fists pumps, nodding in anticipation, some laughing. Well, uh, that was a good sign, wasn't it? If all seven envoys showed up or peeps from seven kingdoms, then what could have gone wrong? Rue swallowed hard.
Dwalin's rough voice interrupted the brief wave of cheap thrills, asking if the Dwarves of the Iron Hills were going to come. Iron Hills. That was where Thorin's cousin, Dain, was from, right? Dwalin was scary serious, leaning a bit forward. Oh. This must be the part Thorin―
Thorin grumbled in bitterness, in disappointment he couldn't hide, "They will not come." He returned to eating. Oh, crap. How could Dain do that to his cousin? Then again, Rue knew she shouldn't compare every cousin relationship to hers and Natalie's. They were close, had always been since they were kiddies running around on the playground. They'd gone to school together, even got in that fistfight in high school together. The both of them versus two gangster chicks who thought they were hard. Nervously, she tapped her nails against the table, softly scratching at the wood. No wonder why Thorin had been upset. These last two months must've been hell for him. First, he got in a fistfight in Bree―thanks to Rue, got in a heated argument with Dis where some unforgiveable things were said, went to the meeting in Ered Luin to find out his cousin would not send in the troops, and then had almost been killed by some assassin. And to top it all off, his nephews had ventured off to the Shire without permission, and Azog―Rue swallowed hard―the pale Orc that was supposed to be dead was not.
There were murmurs of disappointment, Ori clenching his fists, shaking his head in disbelief.
Underneath his breath, Rue heard him say, "Cowards."
"Aye." Nori nodded, gulping down his drink.
Dori spat back in a whisper-yell, "This coming from the Dwarf who only agreed to go on the quest to 'escape' authorities."
Nori leered.
Well, uh, here were some more problems. Rue scooted closer to Gimli, trying to stay out of the Ri brothers business.
Thorin's overpowering, intense voice, interjected all small conversation.
"They say this quest is ours and ours alone." Weren't Dwarves supposed to be honorable? Did the Dwarves of the Iron Hills have any connections to Erebor at all? Maybe―maybe they just knew better than to disturb a Dragon hoarding gold in a mountain. Rue really liked Thorin―he was awesome, brilliant, inspiring, and one of those go-getters, but she didn't really think this was the smartest plan. There were fourteen Dwarves, one Wizard, and possibly a Hobbit going on a suicide mission. If this Dragon was Hungarian Horntail size or bigger, they probably needed an invisibility cloak, the Elder wand, or just Snape because he was awesome. Hey, having Dumbledore on your side wouldn't be too bad either.
Bilbo neared the table, asking about the quest. Hmm. So if Rue could possibly get to Hogwarts, maybe she could get all those things? Then she could come back to Middle-earth and help Thorin get his home back. Wait. Her heart started beating fast as the voices around her became nothing but buzzing white noise. She wanted to come back to Middle-earth? What about going home? But what about Thorin and his quest to get The Lonely Mountain back? He neededall the help he could get, even if he would never admit it. What could Rue really do to help? She was kind of useless.
A map was now spread out on the table, Dwalin moving a bowl out the way. Rue saw glimpses of a red dragon hovering over The Lonely Mountain. Hey, that was kind of a depressing name: The Lonely Mountain. Gloin said something about the portents saying it was time. Nori and Dori rolled their eyes for some reason. Was this a prophecy? Oh, no, was there a hall of prophecies like in the Ministry of Magic? The Dwarf sitting next to Gloin―he had some hearing aid―mentioned ravens. Ravens? Rue couldn't help but think of Mystique from X-Men. Hey, if someone could shape shift into an animal, it would be a good time to mention it. Nope. No animagus here.
Bofur was teasing Bilbo, trying to make Smaug sound like Voldemort or something. Rue had seen gangsters do this to new recruits. Make the gang leader sound like Chuck Norris. That was usually when she started walking faster down the street or through the stairwells at school.
Suddenly, Ori stood up, going all macho badass. "I'm not afraid! I'm up for it. I'll give him a taste of the Dwarvish iron right up his jacksey!" Damn Ori. Rue was open-mouthed. Nori laughed, smiling, nodding in approval. He was definitely the fun big brother.
Gimli banged his fists on the table. "Aye! Right up his jacksey!"
Dori yanked Ori down like a mother would do to their kid if they were running through the Wal-Mart aisles, screaming bloody murder.
"Sit down," Dori said disapprovingly, shaking his head while Nori continued guffawing.
Balin spoke up pessimistically, "The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us. But we number just thirteen, and not thirteen of the best―" His eyebrows pointedly traveled up his forehead― "Nor brightest." Burn. The Dwarves all started giving outcries of who was stupid and who wasn't.
Gimli bellowed, "Fourteen! Fourteen Dwarves!" Hey, Balin forgot about Gims.
Rue timidly slouched down in her seat, watching everyone with wide eyes. This felt like one of her family reunions, where someone would call out some cousin for hooking up with their boyfriend or girlfriend, or both. Don't judge.
Fili banged his fist on the table, trying to use Thorin's swag. He said Dwarves were fighters―Rue could vouch for that. Then Kili jerked in his seat, putting Gandalf on blast when he asked how many Dragons he had killed. Well, that was a good point.
The other Dwarves were all riled up like those manly guys for the Super Bowl, standing up, demanding Gandalf give a number. The kooky Wizard seemed overwhelmed, choking on his pipe. Man, these Dwarves could change topics at the speed of light. Rue was vaguely aware that Fili was the only Dwarf who remained in his seat. He took a sip of his drink, smirking for some reason.
In a flash, Thorin was out his seat, taking over the conversation with one word: "SHAZARA!" Oh, shit. That was probably "shut up" or "I'll kick your ass if you don't shut up" in Dwarvish.
Everybody sat back down within seconds. Smart choice. The dining room was overwrought with intensity, Rue and the Dwarves watching Thorin in unabashed wonder.
His next words were monstrously passionate.
"If we have read these signs, do you not think others would have read them, too?" Darkness seeped into Thorin's words now. "Rumors have begun to spread, such as―" He stopped mid-sentence, as if stunned by the realization he was actually going to say something aloud. His fists were balled, fingers curling inwards so tight, Rue wouldn't have been surprised if his hands were cramping. "On our travels here, we were attacked by an Orc who spoke of Azog the Defiler―" Thorin's blue gaze froze on Balin's, and then drifted to Dwalin's. They were open-mouthed, bodies stiff in anticipation. Thorin jerked one fist upwards, his words heated. "He spoke of Azog the Defiler being alive. I have not seen it with my own eyes; therefore, those foul words may be lies. But if those words are lies or not, make your decision to chance this quest by first light. I will hold no responsibility over any deaths, nor will you―" Thorin's words were quiet, hushed in unprecedented charisma― "Be less honorable for not going. The Dragon Smaug has not been seen for sixty years. Eyes look east to the Mountain, assessing, wondering, weighing the risk. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected." Thorin roared passionately, one of Rue's most unforgettable moments―maybe even for the rest of the Dwarves, too―passing within several blinks of an eye.
"Perhaps Orcs wish to claim what is not theirs! Do we seize this chance to take back Erebor?" The Dwarves were on the edge of their seats now, this raw, the real Thorin unfurling in front of every eye in that dining room. "DU BEKAR! DU BEKAR!" That must have meant it was time to put on your tennis shoes and rings and meet Azog the Defiler in the alleyway.
The air was electrified in this suicide mission, Dwarves from every seat nearly whooping.
"I DO NOT CARE IF HE IS ALIVE, I WILL TEAR HIS HIDE!" Gloin bellowed, banging the table.
Gimli stomped his feet. "AYE!"
"You are too young!" Kili shouted over the noise, looking right at Gimli.
"Only Dwarves with beards are allowed on the quest!" Gimli spat back. And then they were scowling murderously at each other, nostrils flaring. Rue swore she saw an electrical charge surging between them.
Fused shouts could be heard. It looked like nobody was backing out, even if Azog was alive. Rue felt her heart swell in glee, vowing not to cry since she was super-duper emotional and tender moments like these really got to her. It was her first time meeting most of these Dwarves. She didn't want to scare them off.
All of a sudden, the exhilaration died, the dining room falling silent.
"What of this human woman?" Dwalin pointed at Rue from across the table. Resisting the urge to dive out the chair and hide under the table, Rue waved, being friendly. This was the dude who had trained Kili and Fili. He had watched over Dis when Thorin couldn't be around. Dwalin looked kind of intimidating―all right, really intimidating―but he was probably cool. She resisted the urge to smile goofily at the thought of Dwalin and Dis together.
Rue opened her mouth to answer, getting a strange sense of something akin to stage fright. She hadn't felt this many jumbles of nerves since her once-a-semester jury as a music major. Awkwardly, she went to stand up, knees nearly ready to buckle. Strangely enough, Rue thought of AA meetings. Was she supposed to say, "Hi, my name's Rue. I have a problem. I'm from another world and I can't get home! Gah! Someone save me?"
Thorin tensed, slowly sitting back down, preparing to respond to Dwalin's question just as Gandalf jumped in.
He waved his arms, gesturing for Rue to sit back down and for Thorin to let him explain. His big sleeves were billowing. Gratefully, Rue plopped back down. Irritably, Thorin kept his mouth shut.
"Master Dwalin," Gandalf started, grinning―a bit wickedly in Rue's humble opinion. "My apologies for no proper introductions. This is Ruby―" He paused, pointedly waiting for Rue to state her last name since he didn't know it.
"Offerman," she squeaked.
"Miss Offerman is from another world. She will―" Gandalf raised his eyebrows― "Be joining us on the road―" Collective gasps and outcries of protest rang throughout the room. Rue winced painfully. Damn. She knew when she wasn't wanted around, but this, uh―
Gandalf held up one hand to cut through the noise. Most of the Dwarves fell silent, except for Kili, who was nudging Fili in blatant shock. Fili, on the other hand, was disturbingly impassive. Man, that boy was secretive.
"She will only be accompanying us until we reach the Hidden Valley. Miss Offerman will not be going to The Lonely Mountain."
These words seemed to calm the hot-blooded Dwarves down: Gloin, Dori, and Dwalin.
"Miss Rue," Ori whispered.
Rue turned toward him, face red in humiliation. Right now, she wished she could just bury her head in a pillow and cry.
"I am only against you coming along because you're a woman," Ori assured quietly, giving a little nod. "The road and Wild is no place for a woman. I just want you to know that I did not forget what you did for our King." He gave a little smile. Awe, Mr. Adorkable.
From Ori's other side, Nori spoke up. He cleared his throat, talking in a rough tongue―more Dwarvish. All eyes were on Nori as he told them something. Toward the back of the dining room, Rue noticed Bilbo hovering awkwardly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. It looked like Hobbits didn't know Dwarvish. Did they have their own language? Hobbish?
Gloin nodded tersely when Nori finished. The Dwarves, who had all been leaning closer to Nori to listen carefully, were now sitting slack in their seats. It was quiet, the only sound coming from Gandalf guzzling on his pipe.
"You forget the front gate is sealed. There is no way into the mountain," Balin deadpanned. Okay, back to the most important topic. The Dragon.
There was a naughty twinkle in Gandalf's eye as he said, "That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true."
Fili watched Gandalf closely, unblinking. Nori and Dori looked to the other, seeming eerily telepathic. Gimli was open-mouthed, probably in disbelief that he was even here since Gloin had forbidden it weeks ago.
Moments later, Gandalf produced a key. A key? Where had that come from? Rue hadn't seen. She'd been busy staring at everyone else.
Thorin seemed mind-blown for a few fleeting seconds, mouth hung open. Quickly, he schooled his expression, the grouchy face coming into play. Rue leaned forward; as if she could physically fabricate strings that could touch Thorin―that could connect them. Dude, she was so creepy.
"How came you by this?" Thorin asked in wonder, eyes screaming he was freaking touched. Thorin Oakenshield was touched. Rue made a note to herself: must resist urge to cry.
"It was given to me by your father, by Thrain, for safekeeping. It is yours now," Gandalf told him airily. And then he handed Thorin the key. Oh, gosh, the moment was even more touching than Thorin's awe-inspiring, majestic speech. The way he reached for the key, like someone pawing for life―for something deeper.
Ori stared at Thorin in admiration, curling his fingers inwards, seemingly resisting the need to stand and yell, "Jacksey!"
Seconds later, Fili killed the moment by asking if there was a door. Hmm. Good point. Gandalf kept giving Fili a "no duh" look for some reason.
They started studying the map, talking about how Dwarf doors were invisible and how the map was conveniently in some ancient Dwarvish dialect. Again, it would be great if Hermione were here with her ancient runes textbook.
Bilbo inched closer, standing on his tiptoes to get a peek at the map.
"What about this other world and map?" he wondered, eyes cute and big in curiosity. Since Ori was Mr. Adorkable, maybe Bilbo could be Mr. Adorafunkins? All right, that sounded pretty lame.
Gandalf started explaining the ramifications of traveling from and to other worlds. Rue felt like she was going to vomit all over the place, trying not to double over and look like one of those gentlefolk Dwalin was complaining about. Somehow, burglar was brought up in the conversation. Bilbo was supposed to be playing the role as "klepto." Not to make assumptions here, but couldn't Nori be the burglar? Then Gandalf said Smaug knew the scent of Dwarves, but not Hobbits. Good point, kooky Wizard.
There was talk of contracts, Gandalf getting rather defensive over Hobbits, and Bofur trying to psyche-out Bilbo by bringing up the fact that Smaug was a "furnace with wings." Afterwards, Bilbo was out for the count as he fainted. Poor little guy. All the while, Rue couldn't stop casting timid glimpses at Thorin. What was wrong with her? Seriously, Middle-earth was making her crazy. This was stalker-type behavior. But―but Thorin was just so magnetic, brooding fire over the realization Azog might not be dead. Rue gulped.
Please let him be dead?
Rue was hovering by the front door, musing over the Hobbit home. She had expected a gopher hole or something like a clubhouse. Not this. The walkways and doorways were circular, everything cozy. Word of mouth was that Bilbo didn't want to go. Rue couldn't blame him. He had a good thing going here. Her fingertips skimmed the fine wood on the wall. A really great thing going here.
She was about to do more exploring when Gloin made his way over to her from the dining room, where most of the Dwarves still were.
Rue lamely grinned, hoping he wasn't about to lecture her about Gims coming along. "Hey," she croaked nervously.
Gloin was clearly uncomfortable, giving a grumpy scowl, shoving his hands in the folds of his clothes. Under the light, his long red beard shimmered prettily. Rue had learned while staying in the Blue Mountains that Dwarves prided themselves in their beards. "The longer the better," Dis had once told Rue over breakfast. Then Kili had gone on the defensive, accusing Dis of making fun of him.
"It is unfortunate you must come, lass," Gloin started, big lips pursed tightly. "The Wild is too perilous for a woman, a woman from the race of Men no less, but―" He shifted his weight from one foot to the next, gazing past Rue― "Gimli told me of what you did when the Orcs attacked. And I must offer you my gratitude for protecting my son and for even protecting our king." He shut his mouth fast, peering at the wooden floor panel. "We could have been forced to travel with a worse woman from the race of Men." Now for Gloin, that was a compliment. In the Blue Mountains, he had blatantly made his disapproval of human women known while Gimli battled dummies, which included saying things like, "I do not understand why the king has given lodge to her."
Rue nodded, beaming. "Thanks, Gloin. Gims is a great kid, I mean Dwarfling, so it was no biggie."
But suddenly, she was talking to thin air. Gloin had walked off already.
She awkwardly waved at his broad back. Rue turned to scan the Hobbit hole once again, but was interrupted as the Ri brothers and the Durin bros approached. Their gazes suspiciously drifted to Gloin's departing figure.
Nori had a pipe in his hand, huffing on it, his eyes gleaming curiously.
"The company should not be too harsh, Miss Rue. Some are still wary of a woman traveling with us, but I told them of how you defended our kin in the Prancing Pony against the brute of that Man. I told them you struck him when he spoke poorly of the Dwarves of Erebor." Nori smirked. "Young Gimli has vouched for you, too, as well."
A grin played on Rue's lips. "Really? That's awesome!" She resisted the temptation to pump her fist.
Dori nodded. "How have you been, lass? I took it you would be returning home."
Rue was about to answer, but then Kili jumped in the conversation, all wide-eyed, looking greatly offended.
"Why did you never tell us you were from another world?" Kili blurted. That tone of voice meant he was seconds away from stomping and storming out the room dramatically.
Fili shook his head. "Is it really that much of a great shock, little brother? I told you before there was something suspicious of her." Rue blinked in surprise, her tongue falling limp. No wonder why there had been several times when she walked into the kitchen, Kili and Fili falling silent, throwing those innocent doe-eyed looks her way. With Fili, his expressions had been too suspiciously innocent in that suave way of his.
Nori chuckled. Dori rolled his eyes, clearly irritated. Ori cast glimpses from Kili to Fili; his cardigan knitted glove-clad hands by his sides.
Rue held up one finger. "Uh―well you see, I was looking for Frodo. But Bilbo hasn't had him yet. It turns out Gandalf is a Guardian of Middle-earth, but he doesn't know what to do with me, so that's why we're going to some place called the Hidden Valley. Probably to find someone else who might be able to send me home." Rue shrugged, met by nothing but disdainful noises at the mention of the "Hidden Valley." She continued tentatively, "Thorin told me not to say anything to you guys about being from another world, not until we got to the Shire. And Thorin's the kind of dude you don't wanna disobey an order from."
Everybody collectively nodded, adding little murmurs of agreement about how Thorin was definitely the kind of Dwarf no one wanted to butt heads with.
"Miss Rue, what is a dude?" Ori piped up, eyes big in curiosity. Awe, he was so Mr. Adorkable.
"A person, usually a guy," she explained. "Sorry, it's a word from my world."
"Younger siblings ask too many questions, too curious they are," Nori added, giving a slight shake of his head, hiding a grin.
"They ask questions with the most palpable answers," Fili said, indicating Kili by jerking his head at him. Kili was too busy calling Dori a dude to notice.
Suddenly, Nori and Fili were ambling away together, standing side-by-side as they started discussing the qualms of younger siblings. It looked like Rue had just witnessed the beginnings of a Dwarf bromance.
Ori scowled. "Well, it is good to know that I am supposedly too curious." He huffed and puffed in aggravation.
"Nori's just―he's probably watching out for you," Rue said enthusiastically. Man, she sounded kooky. Was Gandalf's funny smoke doing things to her head?
"Sure, he is," Ori muttered sarcastically, expression darkening. He turned, attitude in his gait as he stomped off.
Dori uttered, "He's always upsetting him." He then rushed after Ori like some mother hen, the hem of his robes shifting.
Now it was just Rue and Kili, and―
"There's some more food for me to eat." Kili grinned awkwardly. Yep, this always happened when they were left alone.
"I should―" Rue gestured vaguely to the house― "Find Thorin, talk about the Hidden Valley."
"You do that."
Moments later, they awkwardly parted. From the dining room, she could hear Kili and Gimli arguing, going on round two.
"Beardless whelp!"
"Dwarfling!"
"You wish you had my beard!"
"Oh, and do you not wish to have my height? Do not try to deny it! I see the jealously in your eyes."
Rue ventured through one hallway, mesmerized by a few portraits hanging on the walls. She turned left, passing Bifur and uh―the Dwarf with the super-duper long beard that was braided all the way down to his belly. As usual, she was paying half-attention to the world around her.
Loud voices forced her to stop in the hall, her gaze traveling from the floor to the sight in front of her: Balin and Gandalf facing Thorin as he stood inches away from the wall. For the first time in a while, Thorin didn't wear his coat, clad in only his black tunic.
"Why do you insist on still going?" Balin hissed at Gandalf, completely undaunted by their height differences, appearing to be staring down at Gandalf instead of staring up. "If Azog the Defiler is alive―"
"He is not," Thorin interjected fiercely, puffing out his chest.
Balin held up a hand. "But Thorin, if there is a chance―"
Ugly rage clouded Thorin's face, his lips forming a savage snarl, "What of it? Already, there is the infraction of a woman traveling with us, and the possibility ofa Hobbit. Both of them more or less burdens. You think I shall let the ghost of years past―" Thorin fell silent at Gandalf's pointed gaze.
Rue stumbled back. Oh, crap. She was caught and―and―
Her chest felt tight, throat swollen. This was painful. It felt like her heartstrings had been ripped apart, her face turning all hot and clammy at the same time. Her eyes fell to the floor, briefly catching Thorin's intense stare and his gaping mouth.
Balin muttered in disapproval, "Thorin." It was as if Balin was saying, "You should not have said that," by using only his name.
Rue shook her head. "So―sorry, I shouldn't have been―" She stopped talking at once, stepping backwards, and stumbling. Rue hugged herself, darting out the hallway, catching a fleeting glimpse of Thorin lurching forward.
To hear the person she thought might be her friend―who had listened to her talk for hours―call her a burden was physically painful. Rue had known that was the truth all along, but to hear it confirmed aloud. Her eyes were watering, Rue forcing the stinging tears away by sheer willpower alone. Don't cry.
Rue sat outside on the bench in front of Bilbo's house, contemplating her doomed situation. All these sad, hopeless, pitiful thoughts were making her feel like an emo. To her credit, she had not shed one tear. Sure, tears had been about to spill out her eyes, but somehow she forced her crying away. It was freezing out here, Rue's teeth chattering, but she couldn't go back in there right now. Not after what had happened. She needed a few moments to collect her stupid emotional self, a few moments to try to think of anything else in the world.
Her dark eyes were on the ground below her, Rue jerking backwards when she saw a sudden shadow. Rue's gaze shot upwards. Thorin was standing in front of her. When had he even come outside?
Awkwardly, she refused to stare at him, to acknowledge him. Couldn't she get a few moments of peace before she had to think about what he had said?
"Miss Rue," Thorin spoke restlessly, uncomfortably hovering in front of her. When she didn't answer, he said anxiously, "Ruby."
Okay, so it was immature, but the idea of looking at him, actually doing it might make her cry. She folded her arms, turning away from him, peering at the empty side of the bench. The silent treatment.
Unexpectedly, Thorin took a seat on the opposite side of the bench, choosing to sit next to her. Rue was stunned. Quickly, she faced the other way, eyes traveling to a beautiful, well-kept garden. Bilbo was a gardener?
She heard him start talking, his gruff voice unusually quiet, plagued by…guilt…by regret.
"I should not have―" Thorin stopped mid-sentence, nearly choking on his words― "What I meant to say was that you are a woman, and since in our culture we take great care of our women, it is a distress you must come. And if the rumors of Azog the Defiler's return hold any truth, then even more so it is imperative a woman and Hobbit without any experience wielding weapons and living in the Wild do not come." Doubt and credence both seeped into his words, such contradictions to the other. Rue swallowed hard. Thorin wanted to believe Azog was dead, but he didn't and he hated that he believed any truth of it, so that was why―
She faced him, squeaking, "I did just fine with the―the Orc that attacked us." Nervously, she gestured to her hair. "It was my hair's fault that it almost killed me." Uncomfortably, her hands wadded in her cloak. Rue gazed at her lap, feeling like an idiot.
The feel of Thorin's intense stare had Rue shifting awkwardly, had her feeling exposed. She pursed her lips, wishing this conversation would pass within seconds, but everything felt like hours now.
"Why did you risk yourself to protect someone not of your kin?" Thorin asked in a low voice, heat seeping into his words.
She forced herself to face him again, cheeks turning scarlet as she saw Thorin's gaze on her face, traveling relentlessly across her eyes. He was searching for the truth.
"Gimli's a Dwarfling." Rue shrugged humbly. "I had to, Thorin. He's my friend and just a kiddie. We gotta keep the younger generation alive, you know." She used the back of her sleeve to wipe her nose.
Thorin watched her intently, mouth slightly parted as he leaned farther against the bench, strangely appearing more comfortable with each passing second.
Rue's legs were quivering, the feel of her backpack resting against her legs providing warmth―physically and emotionally. Oh, gosh. What was she supposed to say to that? Did she just piss off Thorin even more? Rue unzipped her backpack pocket, digging inside it for several moments.
"I'm sorry," she muttered sheepishly from behind the safety of her big hair that shrouded her face. "I didn't mean to upset you and―and you are kinda right about me being a burden anyway. I just―" Rue found her cell phone. She yanked it out, cupping it in her hands for dear life― "My feelings were hurt because I'm stupid." Rue shook her head, out-of-control curls bouncing. With a shivering finger, she pressed the power button on her cell, turning it on. The glow from the phone cloaked their faces in light.
Thorin spat heatedly, "You are not foolish." His fingers curled inwards and outwards, crazy intensity bleeding into every one of his gestures. He leaned closer, Rue scooting away instinctively, afraid that this might be the moment Thorin said, "Hit the bricks, toots."
"Thanks for saying that." She grinned, feeling suddenly elated.
Thorin nodded tersely, facing the stretch of gate in front of them. His eyes were glazed as he peered into the distance. Was he thinking about Erebor?
Why was he being…nice? Uh, this was nice for Thorin, who was usually unapproachable and Happy Gilmore angry ninety-eight percent of the time.
Rue blinked, beaming while her phone finished turning on. It was down to three bars. If she kept it off after this, it might not die for…uh…maybe for one more month.
"Thorin?"
He turned to look at her, unblinking, gaze unnervingly attentive and penetrating.
Rue gave a little shrug, feeling lame for doing this. "I thought since I talk about Natalie so much, maybe you can see what she looks like…"
Thorin's eyebrows creased in confusion, his eyes darting to her cell phone.
"This is a cell phone; it's something from my world that lets us communicate across continents…and seas within seconds. It doesn't work here, but at least I have pictures of my family to get me through the tough times." Rue clutched her touch-screen cell to her heart. "See." She scooted closer to Thorin, and he scooted closer in return, peering over her shoulder to see the cell phone. Rue felt strands of his beautiful hair brush against her shoulder, shivering at the contact. Thorin watched the phone in disbelief, eyes wide.
Rue went through her pictures, giggling. "This is the crazy Natalie." A still of Nat flipping off the camera, her dark curly hair tucked underneath a fedora. Good thing Thorin didn't know what the bird was. Her and Nat looked alike, as in their faces and hair, but their body types were a completely different story. Natalie was petite, two inches taller than Rue, and had narrow hips. Rue, on the other hand, was shorter, pudgier, her hips wider. Mom had always said, "You'll be able to have lots of babies." Yep, like that was the thing Rue looked forward to most in life: childbearing.
"She looks like you," Thorin grumbled. He pointed at the phone. "This communicates with people all over your world?"
"Yep." Rue nodded, smiling.
"It is hard to believe."
"It's kinda hard for me to believe Dragons and Wizards exist, let alone Middle-earth. But I think sometimes the craziest things are the most likely, you know what I mean?" Rue was going through more pictures on her phone, taking tentative glances at Thorin.
His eyes were blue fire, latent pain burning through his irises. Thorin nodded, jaw clenched tight. "They are."
Rue tried to keep the mood light, showing Thorin a picture of her youngest cousin, Peppy, with a face full of cake during his fourth birthday party last year. She swallowed hard, feeling nostalgic. Home. It was gone.
The unusual gentleness that crept into Thorin's eyes encouraged Rue to stay a happy camper. She didn't want to be the mood killer here. He gave her a once over, eyes hardening as she continued to show him more pictures.
A gust of wind swept through the air, making goose bumps form all over Rue's arms and legs. She cast a quick glimpse at Thorin, noticing his hair softly blew past his shoulder, giving way to his ear, which was―
Rue gasped excitedly. "You have a piercing!" She leaned inches closer, cocking her head to the side like a little boy about to discover porn for the first time. Bad analogy. It was a helix piercing, so undeniably masculine since it appeared to be something that a Viking would probably wear―or a handsome Dwarf King. Wait. What?
Thorin nodded, eyes lowering in unprecedented modesty. "It is a sign of Dwarves who have gone to war."
She nodded clumsily. Thorin had gone to war? But―but he had lost so much already, and to top it all off, he had been in a freaking war. All right, Rue hated to be judgmental here, but someone should've seriously done a better job watching out for him.
Rue sputtered in admiration, "You're a war hero, too? Man, Thorin, you're just great at a lot of things. You're brave, smart, loyal, and a king. Not to mention tough. No wonder why you inspire all the Dwarves. The ones in the Blue Mountains. The ones here." Sheepishly, she added, "They all are still willing to go on the quest, even if Azog the Defiler might be alive."
It seriously seemed like Thorin had never been showered with so many compliments in his life before. He was blinking in shock, mouth open before he forced it shut. Several seconds later, they returned to their earlier formation of watching the pictures go by. Thorin sat more rigid, tenser, his arm hovering on the bench's headrest behind Rue.
Back inside Bag End―that's what Bilbo called it, even though it was Hobbit hole to Rue―the Dwarves had gathered around the lighted-up fire place, singing a mournful tune. Their song that spoke of Misty Mountains, caverns, running away at the break of day, long forgotten gold, and―burning pines, would have put her college's choir to shame. For hours afterwards, Rue could still hear the eerie, unsaid goodbye ringing in her ears. Because even if no one said it, you could feel it in the air, feel the gamble of death. At the end of the day, they were still fourteen Dwarves against a Dragon. A suicide mission. Something about the quest was brilliant, was undeniably beautiful. The idea that these fourteen Dwarves were willing to risk everything for Erebor, it was―bring out the tissues and chocolate―touching.
Rue sat with her legs curled against her chest, trying to make the most out of sleeping in a chair. Firelight flickered, orangey-red colors dousing through her shut eyelids. All she could think about was this one line from the song: "The fire was red, it flaming spread." Erebor. Man, her heartstrings were suffering serious impairment here.
Rue opened one eyelid a smidge when she heard a creak on the floorboards. Hmm, nobody else was inside this room right now, so who was it? Please don't let it be a ghost. Or let it be a ghost.
She saw the familiar tousle of black hair, his shortened beard, and his strong silhouette. Rue shut her one eye quick, heart beating insanely fast. What was Thorin doing? And then she felt what he was doing. Warmness thawed her body as a blanket was draped on her. Rue resisted the urge to smile giddily.
Then Thorin was gone. And she was all alone in her chair, dreaming about teaching Nori how to fist pump in one of those clubs in Seaside Heights, New Jersey. Talk about random.
Author's Note: Thorin apologized :) So I have noticed a lot of my reviewers have taken to Rue really well. I was going to put this in my last author's note, but I forgot. Anyway, I'm glad you guys are enjoying her character. I made her the complete opposite of the typical Thorin love interest we get. They're always sassy, have bigmouths, and are headstrong. So I purposely made Rue awkward, unconfident, too kind, humble, modest, and very dorky. In my opinion, Thorin would fit with someone best who brings out the best in him. Rue has personal traits Thorin wishes he had: kindness, patience, friendliness, and generosity. While Thorin has traits Rue wishes she had: strong-will, self-assurance, toughness, and crazy passion when it comes to everything he does. I see it as they kind of go together like puzzle pieces, having the personal characteristics the other doesn't have. I apologize for sounding totally lame :)
I made a tumblr! You can follow me at pearlprimrose. I'll put a link up in my profile. I'll be blogging about fanfiction amongst other things, since I have so many darn opinions. I am going to put up a post about Thorin titled, "The Curious Case of Thorin's Biggest Misconception." I was thinking of putting up snippets from Thorin's POV, from parts in my chapter the day before I update. Would you guys be interested in reading them? Blame Madame Tortilla for the idea who reviewed and said she wished she knew what Thorin was thinking :) Please review and let me know what you're thinking of the story, characters, keeping characters in canon, and the few changes I've made so far.
New Author's Note: This chapter has been shamelessly re-posted to see if I can get any more reviews :) Wanted to see if it was the update day or the chapter itself. Also, there might not be an update this weekend because I'll be busy moving and working all weekend. I hope, hope I can get chapter nine posted. I'll try my hardest!
redhouseclan: Your review has made me gush so much! I just got this image of you reading it in secret like how Harry had to practice his spells in secret when he was staying at the Dursleys over the many summers. Rue would want to be your friend, too! The best OC you say? Not sure about that, but what the heck :) Bless me and my laptop! My laptop definitely needs your blessing. Your "I bow down in gratitude and to tie my shoe" comment made me laugh so hard! It's so brilliant! At work, my shoelaces became undone, and I couldn't help but think of your comment. Thanks so much for reviewing :)