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*Beyond the call of duty
Dwalin uncrossed his arms and walked out to meet them. "This is a highly foolish situation you've found yourself in, isn't it Thorin?" He chastised.
The King raised his head slightly from the ram's neck and chuckled contrary to Eilin's expectations. "What are you doing awake you devil's horn?"
"Got woken up by a bunch of soldiers who were yelling at my face that the King took one of their rams and ran off into the night and then a small Elf took another one and followed him" -He looked pointedly at Eilin and raised his brow- "Stealing one of their coats along the way as well!"
She lowered her eyes embarrassed.
"They almost gave me a heart attack! I was having a lovely dream too. First one in weeks…" Dwalin continued with the same playful smile on his lips.
"Tried to get away silently, but between them, her, Roac and you, I managed a poor job. Sorry for ruining your sleep." Thorin replied quietly and pushed himself up slowly as every muscle on his body felt stiff and pained.
"Storming a guard camp isn't the epitome of a silent exit cousin." Dwalin noted.
Eilin alighted quickly in order to give the King back his personal space and stood at the sidelines respectfully.
Thorin's smile seemed forced, but in reality it wasn't. He was pleased to be back in Erebor and not up in Ravenhill bleeding to death.
"Smiling won't change the fact that you've gone and done it again…and why are you looking at him like that for, girl?" He suddenly addressed Eilin who was indeed caught musing at Thorin.
She cringed and looked away.
"He is not famous for either making silent exits or entrances. He wants to be, but always fails." Dwalin smirked devilishly.
Thorin's smile spread in a quiet laugh.
"He aims for stealth and ends up either being overly-dramatic or overly-majestic. He simply doesn't know moderation." He winked at Eilin and took hold of Thorin's thigh and arm to steady him as he alighted carefully.
Eilin's lips upturned in a small smile. She had been expecting a scolding from this huge Dwarf-Lord, but instead she just got a glimpse of two close friends. Now the residues of their camaraderie were rubbing off on her, slowly turning her mood around.
Then Dwalin turned to Thorin again. "As if you hadn't done enough brainless things in your lifetime, you came and added this gem to the collection. Tell me what went through that brilliant mind of yours when you thought that it'd be a great idea to steal a ram and storm the forests when you are barely fresh from the grave?"
Thorin threw Kili's bow at him wordlessly and pushed away from the ram in order to walk back to his rooms alone, but groaned in pain and his knees unlocked. She rushed to steady him, but Dwalin was quicker and much more efficient than her. The large bodyguard picked up Thorin's weight with an ease she would have never been able to mimic. She crossed her arms and looked at her boots wistfully.
"Oh, damn…" Dwalin looked at the bow with eyes that suddenly filled with grief. That was the last thing he had been expecting.
Thorin shook his head. "Cannot bury the boy without his weapon." he whispered.
Dwalin looked at him long and hard. "I am sorry I was asleep through this." His voice lost every thread of playfulness.
Thorin cringed and felt grateful that Dwalin was there to keep him up. The pain from his stomach and the weakness of his knees made him unable to take a single step alone now. "Don't turn this into a guilt trip." He rejoined sternly.
Dwalin's mouth broke into a ghostly smile. He tightened his grip under Thorin's armpit and secured him. "So how the hell did you end up in the small Elf's lap? That's a difficult image to forget."
Eilin took a step forth and cleared her throat. "I have Dwarfish roots my Lord and I would appreciate not to be called something I am not."
Dwalin cast her a casual gaze. "You're a feisty one aren't you? Indeed there must be Dwarfish blood in you."
She pressed her lips and kept Dwalin's stare firmly. "There most certainly is my Lord."
"She has to have some spunk in her in order to deal with Dis. If it wasn't for her I'd still be up in Ravenhill freezing to death." Thorin added quietly.
"Well we should thank the little Dwarrowdam then…" Dwalin couldn't have sounded grumpier as he offered her a prolonged look before leading Thorin inside.
"My Lord wait! The King has bled extensively again." She rushed after them.
Dwalin opened up Thorin's coat. When he saw the blood reaching down to his knee, he blanched. "We need to lay you down and call Oin." He muttered.
Thorin's jawline flexed. "Oin stays away from me. I am not going through all that again. Blood will stop on its own. It's not so much anyway."
Dwalin raised his brow thoughtfully and looked at Eilin. "Can you follow the best smell in the King's Halls and find Bombur and Bofur's fire? They might be asleep, but search in their bags and you shall find a couple of bottles of ale. Bring them up to the King's room immediately."
"Getting me drunk won't change a thing. Oin is not touching me." Thorin spat.
Dwalin pulled him up and secured him on his strong body. "We shall do what needs to be done to fix you up" -He told his friend with an almost affectionate tone and then turned to Eilin- "Go and find the brothers, girl."
She curtsied elegantly. "Yes, my Lord."
"Don't allow them come up." Thorin looked at her above his shoulder.
"As you order, my King." She bowed deeply.
As Dwalin led Thorin up to the royal chambers quicker than she would have ever managed, she searched around. At first she was overwhelmed by how many camp fires were spread in the King's Halls and by how many sleeping soldiers were sprawled around them. In the end though it wasn't hard to pick up the tasty smell of well cooked meat and follow it home. She found the brothers hidden from the elements of nature behind a couple of broken columns, deeply settled in a dark recess. The larger one was sleeping silently and the other one seemed to be carving something out of wood with a sharp knife. She had counted on both of them being asleep. Now she had to confront one, didn't she?
Eilin inhaled sharply and braced herself. "Master Bombur or master Bofur?"
Bofur turned quickly and pointed his knife at her throat.
She blinked at his impeccable reaction and felt her stomach dropping. "I mean no harm." She whispered.
Bofur frowned at her. "Who the hell are you?"
"Eilin, I was sent here by master Dwalin. He told me to find you." She tittered.
"Come again!?" Bofur said and drew the knife away.
She exhaled in relief. "Eilin, my name is Eilin." She repeated with a hushed tone.
"Yeah, got that part, it's the rest I didn't understand." The clever looking Dwarf said and sat down again, showing her his back.
She came round to him. "I am princess Dis' maiden and Lord Dwalin send me to find you. The King needs some ale and he told me you might have some."
"Thorin asked you for some ale?" Bofur's lips livened with a confused smile.
"Lord Dwalin did..." She rejoined.
"Dwalin used the words ale?" Bofur chuckled.
Eilin felt her cheeks mounting colour and her skin crawling angrily at the dismissal she was getting from this smart ass. "Yes, the King walked quite extensively today and he is very exhausted. They need a bottle of ale."
"Thorin walked! Bombur get up!" Bofur threw his brother a boot that found him straight on the forehead.
The larger Dwarf sprang up with unexpected agility. "What?" He mumbled still half asleep.
"Wake up you troll snot! Thorin walked today for the first time!" Bofur exclaimed happily.
"We have to go up to see him!" Bombur eyes widened.
"Yes, I'll take the ale to him myself!" Bofur said and started searching his bag quickly.
Eilin tensed at the idea of misconducting the King's orders. "No, listen. I have to take it up, not you!"
But no one was listening to her. They were searching their bags. Taking out empty bottles and throwing them away, causing a racket she hadn't been expecting. "Listen to me please." She tried again, but no one did.
She had a decision to make and it wasn't easy. She took two steps and her small hand landed with force on Bofur's shoulder. It took guts to turn this Dwarf around and look him straight in the eyes, when years upon years she was avoiding everyone's stare. Apparently her instinctive reaction stopped him. "What are you doing?" He asked confused.
She felt her hand trembling and got ready to tell him that she was here under orders and that no one was going up to bother the King. That she only needed them to give her the bottle of ale. Her mouth though didn't seem to be working as her body began shaking uncontrollably and suddenly she felt weak at the knees. Her lips turned blue and her eyes rolled into her head moments before she passed away in front of the stunned brothers.
What happened between her hitting the floor and opening her eyes was a complete mystery. A kind and warm voice was speaking above her quietly, trying to bring her back to them. "Come on, open your eyes. Everything is okay."
Her mouth tried to tell them that she was fine, but mumbled something she couldn't comprehend, and neither could them. Once more her body decided to shut down the moment she had to face a man up close and personal. It wasn't something that hadn't happened to her several times after those men forced themselves upon her years ago. Rhiannon, her best friend, always told her that her body was trying to protect her from further shock that was why it was causing her those fainting spells. It was doing it even at times like these were she was in no real danger. Apparently her subconscious didn't see things as they really were. It was trapped back in those days and returned there each time with the slightest of causes. She felt betrayed and diminished by her body's stupid gut reactions.
"She's coming around." One of them said.
"Do you need some water?" She saw the shadow of a huge hand offering her a cup.
She shook her head and pushed it away.
"She's trying to speak..."
"Come on get up slowly...carefully." The voice she recognised as Bofur's said and several hands helped her sit up.
She felt dizzy and washed out, but at least her eyesight was clearing slowly. "I am fine, thank you." She whispered.
"Well, you don't look fine." Bombur scrutinised her.
"I need to get back to Lord Dwalin with the ale." She mumbled.
Bofur smiled brightly and brought two bottles of amber liquid in front of her face. "Found two, but maybe you should take it easy before you faint again."
She pulled them out of Bofur's hands almost greedily. "Thank you!" Her try to stand up was awkward, but the assistance of Bofur saved her from falling flat on her face again.
"Hold it, we are coming with you." Bofur said.
She reached out and stopped him. "Please don't do this to me. I am new here. I am scared and over my neck already. I landed exactly where I shouldn't have. Next to a firelight so bright we can both be seen from Mordor. I have my orders. Let me return with the booze and please check on the King tomorrow. When he or some of his confidants will inform the rest of the city about the state of his health."
Bofur paused and looked at her critically "Booze?"
"What?" She asked confused.
"You said booze, not ale." Bofur pointed at her playfully.
She huffed and closed her eyes. "I did yes. Reminiscent from my working days at the tavern I suppose."
He smiled. "Fine we won't come up then, but tell me how was he?"
Bombur approached quickly, eager to hear about their King.
She took a deep breath not really knowing how to answer this without betraying the King's weak state. "He is much better, that's all I am allowed to say."
Bofur exhaled in relief. "Thank Mahal. What's your name again?"
"Eilin." She smiled timidly.
"I am Bofur and this is my brother Bombur. You haven't met our third brother Bifur, but it matters not since he only speaks in Khuzdul."
"I know how to speak your language, more or less." She said quietly and smiled at her hands embarrassed.
Bombur frowned. "How come you know Khuzdul? You look like an Elf, but you are not, are you? You are too short to be one..."
She shook her head. "I am not an Elf..."
"Neither a Dwarrowdam though…You are too thin, delicate and hairless to be one..." Bofur surveyed her face with more boldness than expected.
"I am half dwarfish, half human" -she hurried in order to stop the usual banter about her descent- "that's all there is to it my Lords."
Silence from the other side and she decided to keep her eyes on her muddy boots as they were a safer option to their critical eyes.
Bofur's voice returned happy, taking her by surprise. "We are not Lords. We don't belong to the Royal Line of Durin, girl. I am a toy maker and my brother…"
"A baby maker!" Bombur hollered and they both laughed heartily.
She looked up timidly and smiled at them.
Bofur nodded and pointed at his brother. "He's got seven kids, he does. Plans on having many more when he gets back. Poor woman…"
"She's gonna love it!" Bombur retorted angrily.
"I am sure she will!" Bofur laughed and slapped his knee.
Eilin exhaled feeling more than relieved by the silent acceptance of these happy brothers. She lifted up the bottles. "It's nice to meet you, but I really have to…go. The King is expecting me..." she trailed off.
Bofur nodded. "We don't want Thorin to chastise you, but before you go do you promise to inform us about his health when they release you of your service?"
She hesitated. "I will try?"
Bofur chuckled. "That sounded more like a question than a statement."
His bright eyes and easygoing manner made her smile. "When I find an opportunity I will come and tell you how he's doing, okay?" She tried again.
"That's better." Bofur pointed a playful finger at her.
"Need some food before you leave missy?" Bombur asked and made for the cauldron.
She shook her head vigorously. "No, no I have to go."
Bombur looked disappointed.
She tried to fix that. "I mean I am famished to tell you the truth, but I need to attend to the King first. If they give me a break, can I come find you and have a plate of whatever it is you have cooked? It smells delicious."
Bombur beamed down to her. "Yes! I'll keep a plate for you!"
Bofur shook his head and began carving his small piece of wood again. "You just captivated his heart."
She smiled. "Thank you both for helping me out."
"And thank you for giving us the best news we have heard in days!" Bofur winked at her.
She blushed down to her toenails. She raised the bottles to the two brothers in salutation and with renewed spunk she began walking back to the King's room. Then slowly as the happy energy of the two brothers slowly dissipated, she remembered in what a bad condition she had left the King and she dashed up the staircase and the darkened corridors in a hurry to get back. It was only when she reached the fifth level, where everybody was sleeping sprawled on the floor, that she stopped her eager canter and tiptoed to the door. She opened it up slowly and came in the royal chambers noticing that it was distinctly warmer in comparison to the corridor, but that it also carried a faint smell of blood.
She looked at the bed and noticed that the King's bleeding thankfully hadn't worsened. Another ancient looking Dwarf-Lord was near him apart from Dwalin and they were trying to convince him about something that he was refusing ardently. When she entered, the King's fiery eyes fell on her and she froze in place, unwilling to breathe. Then his rich voice echoed through her spine even from a distance.
"Bring it over." He extended his hand.
She trotted quickly, took a porcelain mug that looked very expensive and went over to serve him, but he pushed it away and took the bottle from her.
She pulled back swiftly and tried to avert her eyes. Peculiarly though they seemed to have a mind of their own and remained raised to the King, half hidden behind her long red mane.
"Wound isn't that bad, but I need to replace some stitches. Tell me when you feel drowsy enough to let me attempt this without breaking my neck Thorin." Oin said calmly and adjusted his hearing cone.
Thorin frowned while he emptied almost half the bottle in one take. "I'll break your neck anyway. I don't want you to touch me. I've had enough of all of you messing around me…." He grumbled, more to himself than at them, as he drank the alcohol quickly and efficiently.
"For someone who rarely drinks and has his stomach slashed through and through, you are downing this pretty quickly. Good enough for a drinking competition might I add." Dwalin smiled.
Thorin lifted the bottle until it was empty and then discarded it. It clanked on the stone floor and rolled close to the fireplace defeated. "If you think I am going to stay still while this fool tries his sawing tricks on me again, you are heavily deceived!" He snapped and glowered at Eilin.
On cue she rushed and presented him the second bottle. "Another one maybe, Sir?"
He humphed indignantly, but took the bottle from her hands.
Dwalin crossed his arms and looked patiently at Oin. "Wait for it, he won't be long."
Oin nodded with a smile of understanding. "I have all the patience in the world."
Dwalin turned to Eilin. "Did you bring another one?"
She shook her head. "They didn't have anymore, but I can go search…"
He waved her off. "No need. I think these two will knock him out for good. He doesn't drink much or often."
"His father was a very heady drinker, I don't know whose footsteps he followed to become so weak in that department." Oin shook his head disappointed.
Dwalin pursed his lips. "Too much discipline."
"Too much responsibility for others." Thorin spat and emptied the second bottle with a wince as the alcohol burned down his throat and began numbing his extremities.
Dwalin instantly sobered up, but Oin was adjusting his hearing cone and didn't seemed to have heard the King's bitter comment. Eilin though did as her eyes seared on him.
"Don't look so gloomy" -Thorin snorted and looked at Dwalin- "that's buried history...long dead, isn't it? Only the skeletons remain, like the ones up at the secret entrance…" He hissed cheerlessly.
Dwalin cast his eyes down heavily.
"Did you recognise who these skeletons were by the way?" Thorin's eyes were scorching the head of his friend demandingly.
Dwalin looked up. "No."
"Sóldís and her daughter. Possibly her husband too." His face was void of any emotion as he talked about Siv's cousin and niece.
Dwalin looked at him defeated.
"What is he talking about? Did the ale get him good?" Oin asked with a confused cringe.
"No, that's not the ale speaking." Dwalin's eyes filled with grief.
"No, it's not, but it doesn't matter. What's done cannot be undone, right Dwalin? When history is written in blood it turns to rust, but never to dust. It cannot be forgotten."
Dwalin's hand reached out and grabbed Thorin's. "Don't go back to those days..."
"I cannot get back from them." Thorin spat bitterly and closed his eyes when Dwalin's hand pulled their foreheads together in an act of love.
"Tell me what you want me to do and I shall do it for you." Dwalin said with a tight jawline.
Thorin's soft laugh grounded his friend. "Tell that deaf baboon to get out of here and put that new mithril thread down."
Oin leaned over. "Is he smiling? I think It's safe to start on him, if he is..."
Dwalin snorted and pressed Thorin's nape firmly. "Don't make me force you, because in Mahal's name I will."
Thorin drew back with a sad smile and lay on the bed. "Do it fast."
Oin got ready. "This shouldn't hurt you too much since it's only on the top layers of your skin. I won't touch anything deeper than that."
Thorin turned towards the window and his mind flew up to the side entrance where the bodies of the last Blacklocks lay forgotten in time. He imagined how their last moments might have been. Possibly trapped there, fearing to take any other road out of the mountain in case they notified Smaug of their presence. They probably died from dehydration and hunger.
Dwalin pulled his left arm up and turned to Eilin. "Go around the bed and hold his other arm."
Eilin got suddenly animated and blinked at them lost.
Dwalin repeated more sternly. "Go to the other side and take hold of his arm!"
She took a few timid steps towards the King who was looking out of the window completely lost in thought, but the hesitation in her was almost tangible.
"You think this petite young lady can hold Thorin down?" Oin harked.
"Want to hold him down while I stitch him up?" Dwalin glared at him.
Oin waved him off and continued on his work.
Dwalin turned at Eilin. "Try your best."
She grabbed hold of the King's strong forearm, feeling muscles of steel under her palm. If this impressive Dwarf-Lord ever decided to lift up his arm, he would do it with her hanging off of it like a rag doll. She wouldn't be able to restraint him even if her life depended on it. Nevertheless she decided against voicing her worries and tightened her teeth and her fingers, intending to do the best she could as Lord Dwalin suggested.
Thorin's lips broke into a small smile, but he didn't turn his eyes towards her. He looked up to the grey sky and saw that the rain hadn't abated yet. The dizziness in his head transformed into warm numbness that trickled down his arms and legs, because of the alcohol that was running in his system. He blinked quietly as the sweet warmth glided slowly down his body, unwinding his joints and mellowing up his mood.
Then it was there. A piercing pain that re-awoke his reflexes and he tensed, but only fractionally. Her soft exclamation of fear made him look boringly at her. She was looking at his arm as if it was some terrifying beast from the depths of the sea. With her mouth hanging ajar and her red cheeks covered with long reddish locks of untamed hair, she looked rather endearing in her struggle with the big scary monster.
That image and those boozed impaired stray thoughts made his stomach bubble up. He chuckled amused by her honest efforts to win over his half paralysed arm. "Go on, you'll win if you try hard enough." He teased half way out of his mind, as every ounce of prudence seemed to have departed for the day.
Her eyes fled up to his in confusion. Another slashing pain tore through him and his eyes fluttered slightly before focusing in hers again. He noticed that their colour was bright green, intoned here and there with a few drops of an almost golden shade of hazel. The whites of her eyes though were layered with red vessels of fatigue. Sure enough he was not the only one there battling through hard times it seemed.
Her mouth thinned decisively. "If I put my mind to it, be certain that I will win my Lord! This arm is not going anywhere!" She said only half seriously and inside his pain he appreciated her effort to lighten up the mood a lot.
He smiled and looked at her determined well formed mouth with mild interest. The pain intensified and his body arched off the bed slightly.
"Careful girl…." Dwalin warned her with a searching look, in order to make sure that she was managing.
"I am almost done." Oin reassured them.
Thorin inhaled deeply and heard his breath way too loud inside his head. Another pull from Oin's fingers and another piercing needle got buried in his inflamed skin. He stretched painful and she cringed.
He looked at the side of her temple were a long reddish lock was drenched in her sweat and suddenly the smell of blood attacked him and he felt intensely nauseous. He inhaled deeply and found her eyes again, strangely comforting and serene. "You've never been to the Blue Mountains, have you?"
She looked at his azure eyes, but they were half hidden behind a curtain of painful fog. "No, my Lord, never."
"I know…I would have remembered seeing you before." His face was unreadable.
Dwalin gave them a guarded look.
She averted her eyes uncomfortably, thinking that it was her unconventional appearance that would have made her so memorable in the eyes of a King.
The next bolt of pain drew his attention away from her and he turned to Oin angrily. "Are you done already?!"
"Just tied down the last stitch. Let me put some medicine on and you're ready." Oin assured him.
Thorin exhaled in relief.
"Ale worked wonders on you….see?" Dwalin said contently and released his arm.
Thorin brought it down, yet his other arm was still being detained by this maiden and she was not making a single attempt to draw her fiery fingers, that felt like small vices, away from him. He swallowed away a hard lump that suddenly appeared in his throat and looked up at her, not expecting to see her green eyes staring boldly back at him.
His brows furrowed. "You can let go of me now."
She inhaled sharply and pulled back so fast that she almost toppled over. She caught the chair behind her and dumped herself gracelessly in it.
"You're lucky you didn't do anything worse to yourself tonight Thorin. No more excursions without doctors orders." Oin smiled and looked at his job contently.
"I'll think about it." The King felt his eyes closing down on their own volition.
Oin began wrapping a bandage around Thorin's chest tightly. "You're not going to think. For once you are just going to follow orders. Unless you have a death wish."
"I can say we are all lucky tonight, because we didn't wake up Balin and Dis. Them here would have been disastrous." Dwalin crossed his arms.
Thorin nodded. "Don't tell my sister about tonight."
Dwalin pressed his lips. "Not a word from me, I swear."
Eilin hurried to nod from the other side. "Neither from me, my Lord."
Thorin sighed feeling more than wasted. "Good. Now all of you get out and let me rest."
Dwalin pressed Thorin's shoulder affectionately and instead of walking to the door, he made it to a plush easy chair next to the fireplace. "Not me cousin. I am staying."
Thorin's tired eyes cracked slightly to see his friend making the best out of his new bed for the night and an evasive smile came on his lips. "I didn't have such hopes for you." He whispered.
Dwalin raised his brow and closed his eyes.
Oin called Eilin. "Come on girl, we are done here."
She stood up and followed the older Dwarf-Lord with many troubled looks above her shoulder.
When they were out Oin smiled at her. "You did a good job tonight."
She clasped her hands and lowered her head. "Thank you my Lord, but I think the King made it easier for me. He didn't resist my grip at all."
Oin smiled patiently. "I wasn't talking about restraining his arm..."
Eilin looked up confused.
"I meant when you followed him up to Ravenhill. He is such a stubborn daredevil that he could have easily killed himself up there." Oin's demeanour plunged even at the thought of the risk Thorin had taken tonight.
She pressed her lips and felt her cheeks mounting colour. "I was only doing my duty my Lord."
Oin raised a wise finger at her. "That was beyond your call of duty young lady. Goodnight." With that he walked slowly away from her.
Eilin remained in front of the royal chambers for a long time, trying to digest what had taken place tonight. Was what she did beyond her call of duty as Lord Oin said or was it exactly what was expected of her by the princess? Each and every night, just before retiring for bed, Dis always reminded Eilin with an austere voice to watch over the King like a hawk. Eilin couldn't stay in the King's room without an invitation now that he had regained consciousness, but she did keep an eye on him from afar so she always took a chair and placed it at the end of the royal corridors in order to be certain that no one was coming in and out of the King's rooms. That night they were both kind of lucky to criss cross each other though, because it was the only night she overlooked Dis' orders and went down to the kitchens to brew herself a warm cup of tea. Her mistress was fast asleep, the King was also and Eilin felt too sleepy and too cold. Instead of forcing herself to remain on that chair and fall asleep upright she decided to revive herself with a hot brew.
Everyone in the city had settled down for the night, so she hadn't been expecting anything extraordinary to happen. This didn't seem to be a different night from all the others. She made her tea in the silent and lonely kitchens, sat there under a soft candle light to drink it and then retraced her steps to the royal corridors in order to check on the King and her mistress. Just as she was passing in front of the destroyed gates, she saw his imposing outline appearing under an impressive archway that led to the lowest floors. He was limping heavily and his face was locked in deep thoughts she had no chance of ever finding out. He was wearing only a thin royal blue tunic above his leather trousers and heavy fur boots. He was clutching firmly upon a heavy war hammer as he directed his heavy steps not towards his rooms as she was hoping, but outside.
The shock of seeing him up and about faded away quickly in view of the knowledge that whatever it was that he intended to do didn't look very wise. Walking around alone with the help of a man made crutch when his body was torn apart, at this hour, in these clothes, under this weather, and in his condition was truly imprudent. Eilin nibbled on her bottom lip for several moments before deciding to follow him. If she took the time to find someone from his company she was in risk of losing his tracks. When he exited the gates, she rushed in front of him and raised her hand with as much determination as his heavy gaze allowed her to have.
She didn't remember what kind of nonsense she told him in order to stop him from taking another step. Even though he could have easily send her off flying into the river with a single shove, his large palm cupped her shoulder and pushed her aside with gentle consideration. He didn't answer to any of her warnings and didn't stop his advance as she hopped around him like a bunny trying to draw his attention though.
Finally she stopped her tries and pushed all the wet and frozen hair away from her eyes and mouth. She searched his wide shoulders as they got lost behind a thin curtain of soft rainfall and dashed after him, decided not to let him out of her sight. When she saw him taking one of the formidable war rams from a couple of bewildered soldiers, she hesitated only for a moment before claiming one for herself with more audacity than she had been expecting from her usually timid self.
After that she remembered little, except that she lost him as he was riding faster and much more recklessly than she would have ever dared. She continued to ride all over the valley, searching desperately through the River forest, cursing herself for allowing him to slip away from her, when the cawing of several crows drew her attention. She knew that the heirs of Durin were allies with the crows of Ravenhill from the bard songs she so admired in her youth. Their appearance above her head and the urgency of their caws were enough to let her know that the King was somewhere close by. She followed them only to find him helpless and bleeding.
When they returned the last thing she had been expecting was to get a glimpse of Thorin Oakenshield's friendships and the workings of his inner social circle. He didn't expect to see a good friend in the stead of Lord Dwalin, nor such a caring medical man in the person of the wise Lord Oin. She didn't anticipate to meet some of his loyal comrades and see for herself that they were simple Dwarves and not some mythical creatures of ancient lore as she used to think. Last but not least though, she would have never believed herself capable of trying out some honest humour to alleviate the King's pain or that she would be scrutinised by his unnerving eyes for far longer than she would have ever thought possible.
Now at the aftermath of their adventure she was left a little bit raw and open, especially after the King made that comment about how difficult she was to forget...
As if she didn't know how different her appearance was, she had to get a royal reminder...possibly literally.
She rubbed her face and feeling baffled, tired and definitely flustered she decided to return to the kitchens and prepare some breakfast for anyone that might be interested. The Princess, Lord Dwalin or Lord Oin, Bofur and Bombur...or maybe the King himself...She huffed and pursed her lips...
There was no point in trying to get to sleep...no. After what happened tonight, it wouldn't come easy anyway...
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