Author's Note: Thanks so much for the reviews, favorites, and follows! Seriously, it blows my mind that people actually read this story. You are the best, nothing's gonna ever get you down. Totally referring to The Karate Kid :) I will warn this is a monster chapter! Please don't be intimidated? Thanks DwarvenWarrior, uno mega, Shadowsammy, Guest, znk99fg7, THE WALKING sexy AMC, SiaSaySomeday, jorja85, CannonRebel, GoldCleaver, Tulipa Negra, Xander Callos, YoIt'sThatOneGirlNameBianca, Just4Me, Laurie Jupiter, TheHobbitFanatic, Coolo, PJOLover, TheTwinStorytellers, UKReader, x0chu0x, cauldron-of-ceridwen, L.V. Owl, Mystic Vampyre, obsessed reader, and Obscure Stranger for reviewing! Special thanks to L.V. Owl for reviewing five chapters :D Answers to anon reviews will be below like always.
Disclaimer: I don't own "Be the Song" by Foy Vance. This is one of Thorin's love-love songs in my eyes :)
Chapter Twenty-One: Be the Song
Thorin watched the ring, his eyes as wide as saucers as he shook his head in disbelief. "How can there be such magic?"
Rue bit her lip. "I don't know, but we―" She stopped talking at once. No. She wouldn't do that to Bilbo― "I mean me. I found it on Go―the creature inside the mountain…"
Their heads hovered over Rue's palm, eyes never leaving the ring for several long, tense seconds. Thorin's eyes narrowed in suspicion…and then something else flickered in his orbs. Eh?
"May I?" he gingerly motioned to the ring.
She squeaked, "Go ahead."
He reached for the ring, his fingertips dusting against her flesh. Rue shivered. Wow.
Thorin held the ring between his large index finger and thumb, observing―probing the gold tube. For some reason, it made her nervous. Like for a fleeting moment, Rue thought she couldn't trust him with it. She shook her head, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. There was this certain look flickering in his eyes―desire―pulsing nonstop.
Two polar reactions combated for Rue's mind: snatch the ring and say "my precious" out of―greed?―or grab it so Thorin wouldn't say "my precious."
Thorin held the ring for too long, eyes lighted up in some weird form of…hypnotism. Rue could handle the ring. Maybe these teensy, nanosecond possessive thoughts had attacked her mind ever since she and Bilbo had found the ring, but they were fleeting, hardly there.
Rue cleared her throat. "Uhh…I think I'll take it back if you don't mind."
It seemed like all Thorin heard was white noise. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down, eyes still fastened on the ring. Thorin's blue orbs became glazed, his mouth parting.
Rue felt defensive, and not the kind of defensive she thought she would have been feeling. Her defenses were...for the ring.
She shook her head. "Thorin, I'm gonna keep it on me and be careful…"
Thorin's neck jerked upright like a puppet master had wilted its strings on him. He blinked. His eyes were disturbingly lost.
Nodding once, he said gruffly, "Here."
Thorin shoved the ring into Rue's grasp straight away. Quickly, she put it in her cloak pocket, heart beating erratically. Seconds passed. The ring out of sight, she felt…loads better, like all this tremendous weight had been lifted off her shoulders.
It was as if the pressure Thorin had been bearing went up in smoke. Despite the evident pain from his shoulder, he appeared more relaxed, which was a feat in itself for Thorin. His uninjured shoulder slackened.
Rue reached a tentative hand out, her fingers hovering inches from his shoulder. "Are you―do you feel better?"
Sticking his chest out, Thorin grumbled, "I am fine. Do not worry. It will only be a scar." He added gruffly, "Why did you not tell me of the ring?"
It was socially stupid to snort in response, but she just couldn't help it. She was snorting. "I didn't tell you about the ring because I didn't want to burden you anymore. You always say that, Thorin, that you'll only get scars, but―" The snorting stopped at once, replaced by her emotional side. She swallowed hard― "But what if I don't want you to have scars?"
Bringing her trembling hand to touch his shoulder, Rue grazed the peeks of his bandage. "I know scars are honorable, but I think―I think you have enough scars and I worry about you. A lot."
Thorin tensed underneath her touch, standing still. Strands of his majestic hair hung in front of his face. His breaths deepened, eyes doubling in size―in disbelief. Maybe she shouldn't be touching him―
"I do not mean to interrupt, Dwarf King."
Rue softly gasped, letting go of Thorin's shoulder, turning to find Beorn ambling out his house. He was tall―like NBA player tall. Parts of his body were even hairier than the majority of Dwarves on the quest―and Dwarves were supposed to be hairy. Not that there was anything wrong with that. Beorn was cool, his footsteps always self-assured despite the odds against him. Yesterday, Beorn hadn't been shy when informing them skin-changers were pretty much extinct―he was the last of his kind. Rue wanted to give Beorn a bear hug―pun intended.
He was insanely curious, which was probably the reason he was out here in the first place.
"The elder Dwarf―Balin―wishes to see you," Beorn explained deep-throatily. Hmm. Why didn't Balin come out here then? It was as if Beorn read her mind. He added, "Balin said he did not wish to interrupt such a… 'tender' moment, to which I said, 'I do not care.'"
Thorin was on the defensive, glaring daggers at Beorn, hands shamelessly clenched into fists.
Rue blinked, suddenly realizing Beorn was smirking…playfully.
She grinned. "Thanks, Beorn. Think I'll―" Rue shuffled forward nervously, almost colliding with the front door in her haste― "Yeah, just go inside."
Well, plan "go inside" was a lot better than getting in the way of Thorin seeing Balin. Whatever they had to discuss was most definitely more important than her.
Rue brought her knees to her chest, hugging them. Grinning. She was sitting on the floor, watching one of the craziest scenes unfold since starting the quest―and that was saying a lot considering they had almost been killed about a hundred times. The Dwarves were drunk, not just drunk…more like crunk. Okay, not all of them were crunk―Thorin, Balin, Gimli, and Fili were sober. The majority were shit-face drunk, though, except for a few, who were drinking more casually.
The most interesting drunk Dwarves of all were Ori and Bofur. Ori was kicking at the ground, doing some kind of Dwarf dance. At least that's what Balin said it was between fits of laughter. Nori was smacking Ori on the back in encouragement. Dori scowled in serious disapproval.
Bofur was―it was hard to describe him drunk. He was stumbling along, nearly crashing into the kitchen table where Thorin sat, peering over the map. Giving Bofur a once over, he frowned in evident discontentment. Well now, it was clear Thorin didn't appreciate a crunk Bofur. Thorin grouchily returned to reading the map of The Lonely Mountain.
"Aye, laddie, thinks 'm going to sleep soon," Bofur slurred, swinging an arm around Balin's shoulders.
And then―wait for it―Balin raised his eyebrows in classic Balin pose, turning his head slightly to the left. There! That was the queen of condescending looks!
"That is a good idea," Balin hummed, a smirk playing at his lips. He was trying not to laugh.
Suddenly, Bofur shook his head. "I think not." He puffed his cheeks out, hands traveling up to his hat, then―
Bofur tossed his hat at―Rue gasped―Thorin.
The hat hit Thorin square in the face as he was bent over the map. He sat up straight, hand clenching the back of his chair as he turned to scowl at Bofur. Oh, shit. In the best-drunken response ever, Bofur came at Thorin with open arms, seemingly seeking out a hug. Man, he must have really been wasted.
Luckily, Nori was there in less than a second, grabbing Bofur by the shoulder, leading him away from Thorin.
"This way. There are fascinating things over here. You do not want to disturb Thorin," Nori said airily, guiding Bofur to Ori, Dori, a guffawing Gloin, and a grinning Gandalf. It looked like Gandalf had been huffing on his pipe weed again.
There was an audible harrumph of frustration from next to Rue. She turned to find Gimli sitting there, blinking. "This is dishonorable."
Rue didn't need to ask what he was referring to.
"Gimli, Gloin is only looking out for your best interest―"
"I have proven I can go on this quest, I have proven myself not once, but too many times to count on two hands," Gimli countered, holding up his hands to make his point.
Rue nodded, deciding maybe just being the listener might do Gimli some good instead of trying to offer some advice.
He faced Rue expectantly. Well, the listening part of the conversation was over.
She blew strands of her bangs out her face. "Uhh…I know drinking may look fun now, but trust me when I say this, it's better to―" Rue cast a sheepish glance at Thorin, blushing― "To be more like Thorin, to keep a clear head on your shoulders in case anything might happen." Leaning closer to Gimli, she whispered, "You know why Thorin isn't drinking?" Okay, so she didn't really know why, but she had her suspicions.
Gimli was spellbound by the mention of Thorin in the conversation. He shook his head.
"He is smart. He knows Azog is out there, and he won't risk our safety for anything. Not even for one night of fun," Rue murmured. "Sure, he'll let us have fun, but he won't. He's…selfless. And in my humble opinion, that's the kind of leader every king should be." She was gazing at him dreamily, loving how Thorin's beautiful locks cascaded down his shoulders, how he pursed his lips in concentration. Mahal, he was one of the most beautiful people she had ever met. Sigh.
Gimli's mouth was parted in unabashed wonder. Rue patted Gimli on the shoulder in silent understanding. Hey, she understood: Thorin made her feel the same way at times. Inspired.
"You encouraging the lad to grab an ale?"
Rue perked up in her seat, smiling when she saw Nori standing above them. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
"No, I'm doing the opposite actually." She giggled. "Hey, I thought you were with―"
"Bofur? Ah, the lad is all right, he's with Dori and Oin."
Rue craned her neck, getting an eye-full of Bofur's arms hanging off both Dori and Ori's shoulders. He was helped to one of the wooden chairs on the far side of the room. Damn, was he going to have a hangover from hell tomorrow.
"It is time to discuss something important." Nori winked, squatting down in front of Rue. "Your search for a fine husband." Rue didn't even know she was searching for a husband. Apparently, Nori had other plans.
Gimli snorted, shaking his head.
"Uhhh…I'm searching for a husband?" she squeaked, blinking in confusion.
"You do not need to search since he is already here, but he needs to believe you are searching. If he believes so, he will be most eager to prove himself a worthy Dwarf," Nori explained with a casual wave of his hand. "In our culture, since She-Dwarves are a rarity, Dwarf men will go to the end of Arda for their ones. They will battle any potential suitors."
Suddenly, Nori was touching Rue's forearm. "Now pretend I am an interested suitor. It will get our king's attention." King―uh, Thorin's? Rue was pretty lost now. Why would he care when he was busy looking over the map of The Lonely Mountain―
Rue nearly jerked back in shock as her eyes met Thorin's. His eyes were bugged out in dismay.
"Quick, pretend you are laughing at something particularly humorous I said. Not that I cannot come up with something humorous to say on short notice," Nori instructed.
Rue felt weird, glancing from Nori's Snooki bump to Thorin's seething eyes. What was she supposed to do? Thorin was…his eyes were blazing now. Oh, no.
Rue opened her mouth like some beached fish.
Swallowing hard, she awkwardly smiled at Nori and then at Thorin.
Nori laughed, slapping his knee as he rose to his full height. "Aye, he is already mad after I merely touched you." He murmured, "Like a true Dwarf. Possessive." Nori guffawed harder, walking off.
Great. Now Thorin was mad at her by the look in his eyes. He was gripping the back of the chair, orbs intensely probing hers. Rue flinched away from his steely gaze. Crap. Maybe she should go over there and say something?
She faced Gimli. "Do you think I should say something to him?"
Gimli shrugged. "Well, if you were any other Dwarf―" Hastily, Gimli cleared his throat, turning red at his mistake― "I mean, human, then I would say, 'not a chance, lass,' but the king is hardly ever angry at you."
Okay, then, maybe going to say, "Hey, what's up," to Thorin wouldn't be so bad. She climbed to her feet, knees shaky. Stealing a glance at the room, she shied away from the uproar of laughter from the drunk Dwarves as they formed some dancing Dwarf chain. Hey―wait a minute―even Beorn was laughing. She didn't know him too well, but from staying here, Rue had concluded Beorn wasn't particularly the laughing type. He was always serious, eyes stony and accusatory. In his hand was a mug of―probably alcohol.
Rue made her way to Thorin, skirting past Dwalin who gave her a toothy grin.
Thorin saw her coming, sitting straighter in his seat and fiddling with the map.
Awkwardly, Rue stopped inches away from him. "Hey, Thorin, I just uh―" She leaned over the map, trying not to appear too invasive― "Wanted to know if you needed any help with anything?"
He shook his head. "I do not." His voice was low, so...husky.
"You sure? I have nothing to do but watch our Dwarf homies get drunk." Rue laughed.
Thorin gave her a long once over, nodding curtly. "I am certain."
She swallowed hard, feeling like…she had just been dismissed. It was better to just walk away instead of beg for forgiveness for whatever she did. Rue really needed some fresh air or a nap.
Rue spun around, eyes fleeting to Fili's snoozing form as he lay on a cot on the floor. Ever since they had gotten to Beorn's, poor Fili had been forced off his feet the majority of the time thanks to his injury.
Yep, that would be her in less than an hour, sleeping her worries away…even Bilbo was sleeping―
"Rue."
She turned. Thorin's penetrating gaze met hers.
"Yeah?" she clumsily piped up.
He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, leaning closer, voice dropping to a whisper, "Why did…what were you and Nori speaking of?"
Rue felt like a bump on a log. Stuck on stupid. There might as well have been a line of drool on her chin.
"We were actually―" Rue hugged herself, eyes falling to the wooden floor― "We were talking about you. Nori was telling me about how Dwarf men will fight for their She-Dwarves. That's why he was laughing, you know." She shrugged. All right, she had mostly told Thorin the truth. But she couldn't tell Thorin the actual truth. He'd probably turn all Kraken.
Thorin didn't say a word, eyes softening, his grip loosening on the back of the chair.
Rue opened her mouth, ready to tell Thorin about how Gimli wanted to be like him when―
Out of nowhere, there was a loud, ugly sob. For a second, Rue thought it was Kili, but she turned to find―
Bofur was hugging Bombur, snuggling up in his brother's chest, crying these wretched, noisy, heartbreaking sobs.
Laughter faded away.
Silence fell.
"I―I miss him the way he used to be," Bofur stammered.
"I know," Bombur patted Bofur on the back, eyes downcast. "I miss him dearly, too."
"We were so close and―and―" Bofur hiccupped, pulling away from Bombur to wipe his nose― "He was there for me when you were wed to her, when you hardly knew I was there."
Rue felt her chest grow tight. Nope. She wouldn't cry. Please don't cry. It was lame to cry because of seeing someone else in pain. But it was just absolutely heartbreaking to see someone like Bofur breakdown. Sure, he was drunk, but still. Rue was used to the cheerful, blunt, airheaded Bofur. Not this emotional Bofur.
Trying to be casual, Rue took several steps forward, intending to offer Bofur any emotional support she could.
"No, lassie," Balin said suddenly from behind her. "Leave him. He will be embarrassed enough tomorrow."
She whirled around to face him. His hands were on his sides as he slowly shook his head.
Rue nodded. "Is he talking about―"
"Yes, Bifur," Balin confirmed her suspicions. Her gaze shot to the far corner of the room, where Bifur stood, completely oblivious to the awkward social situation. He was blank-faced. Balin leaned closer to say in her ear, "They were once close before the battle that left the Orc axe in Bifur's head. He was not always like this."
Rue pursed her trembling lips. To see Bofur mourn something that could never be undone…it just―Rue wiped at her eyes.
Beorn bravely approached Bofur and Bombur, bending all the way down to speak gently to Bofur, "You can sleep in one of the spare rooms for the night. Come on, Dwarf, you have had enough ale. No more."
It felt like watching a scenario from the Prancing Pony go down. Beorn scooped a bawling Bofur in his arms, turning to head down the hall where the few bedrooms were. Bombur hurried after them.
Wow. She was speechless.
Officially, the next day sucked Hippogriff butt. Rue hadn't realized how desperately she craved sunlight and fresh air―how drastically different her preferences to spend her spare time had changed since falling in Middle-earth. She was a self-admitted couch potato. Being outside used to be only preferable for jogging, not just for the sake of being outside. Now…things were different. Too bad, she couldn't go outside thanks to the mutant bees.
Rue's Tigger diary was balanced on her knees as she wrote from her seat on the floor by the blazing fireplace.
Dear Nat,
I'm sitting by the fireplace at Beorn's, desperately hoping I can go outside for sunset at least. I've been checking every hour or so, though…and the bees haven't gone away. I'm making this face every time I see them :o They are scary! Maybe if I were back in the modern world and not home, then I would chance it. In the modern world, there are shots for allergies and stuff. But not here. I'm sitting with my homies. Bilbo is currently trying to juggle two goblets Nori stole from Rivendell. There are several good things about this day, though. All of us injured have gotten loads better. Not anything miraculous, but Fili and me aren't limping as much, and Thorin's shoulder is bothering him even less. Not that he told me. I can kinda just tell. We're supposed to leave tomorrow morning and head to the Forest Gate. I'm not sure what it is, but I'm guessing it's a gate to a forest―Mirkwood―to the Old Forest Road, where Thorin has been saying we need to go. There's been a lot of gossip in the company. Mirkwood is Thranduil's kingdom―the Elf who didn't aide the Dwarves of Erebor after Smaug attacked. Yep. Have a feeling if we run into him, things are going to be really awkwardly hateful between Thorin and Thranduil. Just peeked out the window. The sun's going down, which means I'm going to try to head outside again.
Love Rue
Standing up, Rue's joints squeaked in protest. She yawned, stepping over Kili and Gimli's legs. And of course they didn't move for her. Jerks. Rue traipsed for the front door.
Hovering in front of the door while cracking it open, Rue held her breath. Please no bees? Behind her back, she crossed her fingers.
What she found left her eyes big and mouth open. There were no bees, but an entirely different surprise.
Thorin stood a whole head and a half shorter than Beorn, peering up at him, jaw clenched. His arms hung limply by his sides as they faced each other a little ways from the front door. Some substancedripped from Thorin's hands.
Beorn was seething, huffing and puffing. "You are no exception Dwarf King to the greed that haunts all Dwarves. My bee pastures were here before your kind decided to trample inside these woods, but yet you saw it fit to destroy them!"
Thorin merely leered at Beorn in silent retort. Rue lurched forward. Oh, no. Destroyed bee pastures? No. This was all her fault. Beorn should be mad at her and her allergies. Not Thorin. She realized the substance dripping from his fingers was…honey.
"Not even a week's time ago, were my bee pastures set on fire by unwitting humans. And now you have finished the qualms they had merrily begun."
"Stop!" Rue cried out.
Thorin gave her a sidelong glance.
"Do not even consider stepping foot in my house again, Dwarf," Beorn sneered with finalization.
In a flash, he turned, stomping past Rue.
"Beorn. It's not his fault. It's mine!" she pointed meekly at herself. "Bees make me sick if they sting me―I'm sorry."
Beorn didn't stop walking until he reached the front door, his back to Rue. "You were not the one to destroy them, Miss Rue." Then he was gone.
She reeled around. Thorin was already trudging for the gate. No. This was her fault. Not his.
Wordlessly, she chased after him, limping. Crap, her thigh hurt.
Rue slowed inches behind him. "Thorin, I'm going with you―"
He was opening the gate, glancing over his shoulder. She had expected to see all-too familiar anger burn in his eyes, but what she saw left her breathless: dejection.
"It is too cold. Stay inside."
Thorin left the gate―left the safety of Beorn's property. Rue tailed him anyway.
"But I―Thorin, wait."
Suddenly, they were both outside the gate, facing each other. Rue daringly stepped closer, hypnotized by Thorin's beautiful eyes. Inside, she was internally screaming. They were inches apart. Inches. Hot damn.
She gulped. "I don't care because―" Her gaze fell, a blush creeping up her cheeks― "I want to be with you."
Somehow, she steeled herself to meet Thorin's heated gaze.
He nodded, this strange softness dimming the sadness in his eyes. "Rue, with Azog―"
Without warning, she nearly closed the distance between them, bringing her finger to his lips. Thorin froze, shoulders tensing, eyes bugging out. Oh, no. What had she been thinking?
Rue shook her head. "I didn't mean to silence you or anything, but I want―" She gulped, so freaking nervous, hand dropping to her side― "You to know that I'll risk running into Azog if it means―" Rue gave an involuntary squeak― "That I'm with you."
Achingly slow, Thorin nodded again. "It is not safe for you out here."
"But it's safe for you?" Rue pointed out.
He sighed in frustration.
Rue grinned humorlessly. "So we're camping again? Just the two of us?"
Thorin shot her a funny look. "You will not relent."
"Nope."
With great reluctance, Thorin caved in. They walked together a little ways from Beorn's gate, threading past trees, shrubs, and underbrush until they found a particularly concealed spot. There was a plethora of long grass by thickets of trees. Rue couldn't help but compare the long grass to Hobbiton. Man, did Hobbiton feel like a million years ago.
Minutes passed until they decided on one discreet tree.
Thorin sat down first, leaning against the tree. Rue inhaled sharply, peering up. The sky was a dark inky blue now, the last glimpses of sunlight kissing her skin.
Slowly, she fell to her knees, scooting closer to Thorin. It was weird how months ago, Rue was scared shitless of getting physically too close to Thorin, fearful of being punched or something. But now―she felt more comfortable with him, like maybe he wouldn't be disgusted by her proximity.
Rue yawned. She was already tired.
Hastily, Thorin removed his fur coat. Wordlessly, he handed it to her.
She seriously contemplated giving his coat back, refusing to take it, but maybe―
Rue didn't think things through. She closed the little space between them, opening Thorin's coat so he could share the warmth.
He blinked at her for a few moments, puzzled.
She opened her mouth to speak, but Thorin beat her to it.
"You are still cold?" he asked huskily.
Uhh…no. Swallowing hard, Rue nodded awkwardly. "Sorry, I don't mean to be cold." All right, she felt like crap lying and saying she was cold, but it was probably the only way Thorin wouldn't say no to sharing the coat.
Reluctantly, he inched closer―until they were pressed together, sharing his coat. Rue leaned her head on his shoulder, gulping. What if he didn't want her head there? What if he thought she was invading his personal bubble?
Thorin gave a little sigh-half-groan, his head falling onto hers. His uninjured shoulder was tense beneath the weight of her head.
"Are you warmer?" he wondered hoarsely.
Oh, gosh. They were really close.
"Yeah," she squeaked, choking on her one-word answer.
His hair was touching hers. Rue couldn't handle it. She was going to die of "King Under the Mountain overdose." Too much Thorin at once.
Silence passed. Comfortable silence.
"If you wish to go inside…" Thorin ventured, his warm breath dusting her face.
"No." Rue shook her head, the gesture making her involuntary snuggle against the crook of Thorin's neck.
"I would start a fire, but I do not want to risk being seen," he grumbled. Thorin's gaze steadied in the distance, deadly serious. "If Azog does come, I want you to go to Beorn's. Do not hesitate. Do you understand?" Usually when he asked "do you understand," it was accusatory, brash, and rude sounding, but not now. His question was soft, gentle, yet resolute.
She agreed, "Yeah." Okay, it was a lie.
His shoulder was a little uncomfortable. She shifted in her seat. Minutes later, after several attempts of Rue trying to anchor this way and that way, she pulled away from him. Yawning again, she wiped her eyes, getting ready to accept the fact that her neck was going to be stiff tomorrow―
Moonlight flooded Thorin's face, giving light to his dubious expression. He clumsily gestured to his legs. "Do you wish to…"
Rue's eyes fell to his lap as she leaned on the palms of her hands, piping up sheepishly, "It's okay?"
He nodded, leaning further against the tree, chest rising and falling rapidly.
Her heartbeats felt like monstrous thunderclaps. Very slowly, Rue stretched her legs out, leaning down. Oh, no. What if she had misread what he meant? What if Thorin was going to cast her out the company for daring put her head anywhere near his lap?
Okay, she could do this. His thighs loomed closer and closer until―her head was on his lap. Trembles shot through her spine as she felt his hand settle on her shoulder. For a second, Rue thought he was going to push her away in disgust, but he didn't. His actions were…strangely quite the opposite. Thorin's fingers glided down from her shoulder to her forearm in feather light, affectionate strokes. At least Rue was hoping his touches were affectionate.
It felt like she could hardly breathe. Her head was in freaking Thorin Oakenshield's lap. The realization left her speechless. Think of something to say. Don't creep him out.
"You sure this is okay?" Rue wondered timidly. His lap was comfortable, almost like a luxurious pillow. It'd been months since Rue had used a pillow to sleep. It was impossible not to snuggle up. She could feel nothing but him beneath her. The rise and fall of his stomach, his breaths ghosting her face, the feel of his strong, protective fingers and the muscle twitches in his thighs. Everything about him felt incredible. The fact that she could feel all these little things about him was just so…heavenly. Did she sound love-drunk or what? Wait. She blinked stupidly. Love-drunk?
"You wanna play a game?" Rue peered up at him, grinning.
Thorin's gaze fell on her, his eyes…soft. A rare, playful smirk pulled at the corner of his lips. "Proceed."
"I'll start to say something and you'll finish it for me," she explained, moving so she could watch him, the back of her head sprawled across his lap.
In response, Thorin's fingers drifted closer to her face until―she resisted the urge to gasp―they were sweeping her bangs out her eyes. Rue never knew he could be so…oh, man, she couldn't even think coherently. She shut her eyes, loving the feel of his gentle strokes.
"I feel…"
Thorin suddenly jerked his hand away. Her eyes flew open in alarm.
His eyes narrowed in bitterness―in regret. "Unhappy."
"No." She cracked a Cheshire Cat smile. "I feel happy, really happy."
Her heart pounding like crazy, Rue gently reached for his hand. "You can touch me. I'm not―it doesn't bother me, Thorin. I know you're a Dwarf and you guys have honor, but I really….I don't mind." She shrugged.
Achingly slow, Rue put his hand near her forehead. His hand in her hand slackened. Thorin was staring at her in awe, mouth parted. Hesitantly, his fingers began to roam her bangs, Thorin's intense stare seizing hers. The roughness of his fingers―beautiful calluses―skimming against parts of her forehead…Rue desperately tried to keep her breaths even.
She felt winded. Don't look dumb.
In a shrilly voice, she began, "I am remembering when―"
"The night you told me of your secret wish," he finished gruffly for her.
Rue reddened, grinning from ear to ear. Thorin had gotten it right. He remembered when she had told him she wanted to feel like…"a hero just for one day." How could―she shook her head in disbelief―Thorin knew her, he actually knew the real Rue-Rue.
"Am I correct?" he asked quietly, thick fingers skimming the ends of her unruly hair now. He was smiling, a smiling Thorin making her feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
"Yeah."
Rue turned scarlet as their gazes met. Crap. His orbs seared hers, so alarmingly passionate and potent, so…hypnotizing and familiar. It was like Thorin could see her soul―and he had accepted her soul for all its ugliness and beauty. It was official: Rue hadn't gotten enough sleep last night.
"I'm thinking of―"
"Home."
Oh.
"How did you know?" she murmured.
There was a long pause.
"Your eyes."
Huh?
Rue sputtered nervously, "What do you mean?"
His forceful gaze never left hers, so warm and strong. "When you think of home, there is longing in your eyes." Thorin was quiet for a few moments, winding one of her curls around his fingers, and then―"Always."
Rue was fangirling, trying not to scream like some freak. Thorin had used Snape's line, "Always." Oh, gosh. Don't freak out. Okay, so he didn't understand the "always" reference or he didn't even use it in the same context, but still. Rue's heart was singing. What would she have done if he actually had used "always" to describe always loving her? The secret longing was pathetic, but it didn't hurt to daydream. Rue was tempted to snort at herself for her ridiculousness.
She was smiling shyly, feeling how hot her face was.
Without warning, Thorin grunted something in…Khuzdul.
"Menu duyam."
Thorin had willingly spoken Khuzdul to her. What in the heck was going on?
"What does that mean?" Rue wondered, beaming. Maybe he had just insulted her?
Thorin swallowed hard. "It means―" He awkwardly ventured a glance to the left; toward the soft breeze rousing the leaves, making Rue instinctively curl into the warmness of his lap.
"Means….?" Rue prodded.
He shook his head. "It does not matter."
"Were you insulting me?" she asked sadly, her voice pathetic sounding to her own ears.
"No," he growled. "I was not."
"Then―
"I said you were my blessing," Thorin spat, refusing to look at her.
Rue was speechless, mouth open in a silent O.
Everything was instinctual. She snuggled even more in the crook of his lap, opening her mouth before she could think.
"Tu eres mi bendicion."
Thorin tilted his head slightly, curiously. "Is that the language of your people?"
She shrugged. "Yeah, but I can't speak it very well. But I'm trying."
Thorin gave her a long once over. "It is beautiful."
"It'd be even more beautiful if I could speak it coherently," Rue joked.
"What did you say?" he wondered quietly, his thick fingers running through her curls. "It is called…Spanish…is it not?"
"Yep." She nodded earnestly. "And I said―" Rue shyly looked away― "You are my blessing, too."
It felt like her stomach had dropped out from underneath her, like she was on an insane roller coaster ride. Her breathing hardened, heartbeat skyrocketing. But this feeling was so liberating, bringing life to her tense joints, bringing steady flutters to her heart. With Thorin, she felt…felt like she could do anything, be anyone.
Hesitantly, she cast a timid glimpse at him, unsure of his reaction―
Thorin was smiling. Actually smiling. Parts of his teeth were visible in the night. The sight was so beautiful…left Rue breathless. Happy Thorin made her heart soar.
He kept saying little things here and there in Khuzdul, teaching Rue how to say "I," "me," "I want," "I am a friend of Thorin Oakenshield's," and something else that gave her heart lame pitter-patters: "The line of Durin will protect me."
The words on her tongue were weird―were so foreign, but between giggling during mistakes and snorting, she had gotten some phrases down to a T. Thorin was pretty proud of her during the wee hours of the night. At least Rue hoped he was proud. Judging by the consistent grin on his face and his compliments of her pronunciations, she thought he was.
Come morning, she blinked awake lazily, feeling all warm and snug beneath Thorin's coat, her head on his lap. He was already awake, sitting tense, eyes blazing in…too many feelings at once. One of Thorin's hands was on her shoulder, grip protective and…possessive. All right, Rue was officially imagining things.
They didn't say much, Thorin asking if she were hungry or cold. Rue answered honestly. She was starving.
Thorin stubbornly waited outside the gate of Beorn's while Rue went inside to eat and collect her mere belongings: one backpack and the oakenshield Thorin refused to take back. The company was in the middle of breakfast and last-minute emergency packing. The scene reminded Rue of…Home Alone.
Fifteen minutes or so later, they were out the door with some new provisions―the best provisions being the ponies in Rue's humble opinion. Between remembering last night, the feel of being in Thorin's lap, she tried to entertain her mind with trivial things―like what her new pony's name should be. Maybe Jolteon or Vaporeon? Hmm.
Gandalf awkwardly stood between Thorin and Beorn as he said goodbye and thank you. Rue suspected he was trying to get them to make up. Good luck.
Then they were gone.
They zigzagged through parts of the forest hurriedly, going past countless trees. Their panicked breaths plodded the air. For a long time they rode swiftly, Gandalf and Thorin venturing glances over their shoulders, waiting for…Rue couldn't even think it.
When afternoon came―Rue was guessing it was afternoon, judging from the position of the sun, from the way sweat poured down her face―they emerged from the forest, riding through tall grass.
Subconsciously, Rue fingered her cloak pocket for a split-second, wondering where―wait a sec, she had given the ring to Bilbo before they had even left Beorn's. Right? Right.
In the distance, there was a gate, and beyond that―Rue gripped the reins tighter―a creepy forest. The Forbidden Forest meets that one forest right outside Dracula's castle in Transylvania.
Snakelike vines slithered up the arch-shaped wooden gate, creeping in and out of broken, rotting boards. Rue shuddered.
Minutes later, after Gandalf had announced for them to let the ponies go―say what?―they were huddled together outside the gate. Ori kept closing and opening his mouth like some beached fish. Nori had his hands on his sides, puffing out his chest, grinning cheekily. Bofur shaded his eyes, trying to take a closer look at the Forest Gate. Forest Gate. Rue was still having trouble processing the name of the gate, probably because it was so… bland. Forest Gate. Forest Gate.
Gandalf had ventured inside first. Rue was starting to suspect a pack of centaurs had kidnapped him like what had happened to Professor Umbridge. All right, so sometimes Gandalf got her mad, but it was a low blow to compare him to Professor Umbridge.
Just as she discreetly started to lean her weight on her good leg in an effort to appear strong, Gandalf emerged, huffing and puffing indignantly.
Rue stood straight, head whipping back and forth. What had happened?
"Leave one of the ponies!" he shouted. "I must take my leave now."
Nori blinked, keeping the reins on the last of the ponies.
Thorin rounded on Gandalf, shooting the Wizard an accusing glower and a number of questions.
Rue's insides twisted in fear, her head reeling with a million bad outcomes after awful gambles. No Gandalf. What?
And of course because it was Gandalf, he avoided Thorin's posing questions and said instead, "Do not enter that mountain without me, Thorin Oakenshield. And―" He paused for dramatics, giving all the Dwarves a condemning once over― "Whatever you must do, do not leave the path."
He leapt onto the pony effortlessly, giving a nod to the company, eyes suspiciously narrowing on her―what did Rue do?―and Bilbo.
Without another word, Gandalf rode away…leaving. Rue was lightheaded…sick to her stomach.
Sluggishly, they entered through the wooden arch one-by-one. Straightaway, Rue noticed a statue on the left, ancient plant life ensnaring the stone.
"Mirkwood," Balin grumbled pessimistically.
"Elves," Gimli groaned.
"And more Elves," Fili added.
"For once, I agree with the Dwarfling," Kili chimed in, stepping over protruding tree roots.
The turn of her head―crane of her neck―left, right, up, and down. Scant beams of light shot to the forest floor, leaving―Rue swallowed hard―mostly darkness. There was something more frightening―more nerve-wracking in near pitch-darkness than in any other place on earth. But this was Middle-earth, completely different from just earth…or were they just names? No light. No sight.
Thorin rounded on the company, being a beacon of hope in the sea of shadows. "Stay together. Do not stray from the path."
Quickly, the phrase "easier said than done" rang through Rue's head like games of pinball. The pinball was the phrase―and her head was the game. Did that make her body the machine? She wasn't sure. Scattered. Her head was becoming scattered.
The trees…the darkness…the red eyes in the dark―
She froze, gasping, pointing shakily at the pair of glowing red eyes. What in the hell was that? They were coming for her, hell-bent on slaughtering her―
Balin rescued her from the red eyes, his voice an anchor to reality.
"Keep going, lassie. Stay on the path."
Easier said than done. Wait. Rue felt like―she scratched her head―turning wild, frightened eyes on the line of trees that started to resemble coat hangers. Willowy coat hangers that were alive, that were going to eat her if she didn't give back her cloak. In a haste, she tore off her cloak, dropping it on the blade of dead grass. Have the cloak back. Have the darkness…
It was Deja-vu. It had to be. Easier said than done. She had already heard those words in her head. These were just echoes of the past…The darkness all around were echoes, faint booms of what was, of would be―
"Grab your cloak."
Rue wasn't sure who said what, but she remembered seeing glimpses of hairy feet pass her tunnel vision.
Ahead, the Dwarves stayed on the path, marching, reminding Rue of tin-men, those little solider boys. The kind in Christmas movies, the ones kids in the '40s once played with…
She stumbled along. Sweat broke across the back of her neck.
Too many voices hounded her head.
"What are you doing?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing! You were about to step off the path! Did you not hear Gandalf?"
"Is Gandalf here?"
Someone tugged on someone's sleeve. "Do you see that butterfly?"
Rue peered up, wanting, needing to see the butterfly. Just some color in the dark would do her some good, some polychromatic to make the monochrome go away. Was monochrome the right word? A world so dark…
But all she saw―oh, gosh―tears pricked her eyes. The tree branches were so long, so skeletal and sick looking. They met each other halfway, interweaving and mating―becoming something much more sinister: Gargoyles.
Her gaze fell. She was tired. Rue yawned, feeling ready for camp. Maybe she should ask Thorin if they could rest? Resting…resting…her eyes fluttered shut. The feeling―absolutely heavenly.
Crunch. Crunch.
Rue's eyes flew open. They were in the same spot. Thorin was inches from her, his strong hands gripping her shoulders. But he wasn't looking at her. He was transfixed on something in the distance―
"Light!"
Rue knew that voice. It was brazen and impulsive, hysterical at times…
He darted out the company like a bat out of hell. Kili leapt over shrubs, bushes, winding past a tree, forgetting all about the path.
"Kili!"
There was a hunched over figure chasing after Kili. Blonde braids. Fili. Rue slouched backwards, knowing it was best if―if―
"Dwalin, take her."
Rue was gently pushed toward another pair of hands.
Beautiful, majestic Thorin chased after Fili and Kili, someone else not far behind him. Rue couldn't make out the Dwarf from here. Judging from the outline of a red beard―
No. Rue shook her head in horror. Red beard meant―
Her scream was torn from her throat.
"GIMLI!"
There was pounding of feet. Wait. Her feet. Rue panted, following red braids. Red braids. She outstretched a hand, seeing nothing but darkness in the forest corners, lurking big yellow eyes. No big yellow eyes. Just red braids. Chasing after red braids.
The red braids led her to―
There was light. Blinding light. Three silhouettes were standing in the light and then―
Rue was on her knees. There were no trees, no forest, and no darkness.
Only big yellow headlights seconds from running her down.
Author's Note: Big plot twist, right? :D I've been planning this since the beginning, though! So I have an announcement. I know this is an awful place to cut-off, but I've decided to take a little break since I've gotten behind in writing this story. Next week there won't be an update, but the next weekend after there will be! You can follow me on my Tumblr for any update news. Forgive me if the Khuzdul and Spanish were wrong. I tried my best. Review and let me know how I did Mirkwood? I had fun getting creepy :)
Guest:
Thanks for reviewing! Glad to have brought on the feels :)
LOL Rue has a diary thanks to her rough childhood; she has some psychological issues and doesn't trust too easily. It's easier for her to write out her true feelings and thoughts instead of share them with most people. However, Thorin has become an exception. Also, Rue is a big-kid at heart :)
That would have been a good plan! Too bad Pearl Primrose didn't think of it ;) Thorin was embarrassed. See, he's not completely aware of it, but he sees himself as a potential suitor for Rue and would think her seeing him as "weak" would negate his chances. I was thinking the same thing, too, equating the Dragon Sickness to the one ring's lure. That's why I had to write this scene out! Rue and her Hello Kitty undies LOL! Maybe she should switch to something else for Thorin…JK. Rue and Thorin will have SO MANY more awkward moments. So be prepared.
Awe thanks again :)
Xander Callos: Thanks for reviewing :)
My next goal is to get you to yell at the computer screen. Hopefully I did that with this cliffie :)
TheHobbitFanatic: Thank you for the review :)
Gandalf was just being a jerk doing a number one in your pool LOL. Not sure about your BFF's mouth, though. What did your BFF do to piss Gandalf off haha? Keep on swimming in the pool!
Coolo: Thanks for reviewing :)
Unfortunately, Gollum has chosen to no longer star alongside Thorin in the story. He said Thorin was too rough with him LOL. And he doesn't like Dwalin either.
PJOLover: Thanks for the review :)
33333 Gimli will have to come up with his own insult or *hint hint* maybe Kili will come to the rescue :D
Obsessed reader: Thanks for reviewing my obsessed reader!
I always love your reviews! The "hyper-sensitive" to each other's needs just gives me the feels, you know? The dialogue is no longer jealous ;) I love that you pointed out how much emotional states and being in life/death situations affects the characters themselves and their relationships. Rue and Thorin definitely would have taken A LOT longer to fall for each other if they were comfortably together. I don't want to hold out too long with the kiss, but I want the moment to be right :D
Thanks again :)