For a second, the silence was deafening.
"No!"
Thorin's voice was quiet, but tore from his chest violently, and was accompanied by him gripping my arm so fiercely I knew it would bruise.
"No!"
A little louder, and I heard Dwalin's footsteps coming closer.
"I-"
I opened my eyes, and locked gazes with him, "I won't let it happen, I promise. If by my life or death, they will live. You will live," I glanced up at Dwalin, "All of you."
"You cannot promise that," Dwalin growled.
"Oh, but I can, even if it means I have to use my body as a shield, you'll all live. Don't you see, Dwalin? I'm nothing, a nobody from a different world that wasn't even anybody there. I was the weird hermit lady in the woods. You, all of you, are heroes and warriors and the very heart of your people. Bastions against the darkness. My life matters little, in the face of that. Besides," I glanced back at Thorin, "I have no family to grieve for me, no one for whom my death would cause such grief. All of you do."
"Even the greatest warrior cannot be everywhere at once, and you are no warrior."
"Then train me, Dwalin! And," I set my teeth and growled back at him, "I can damn well try!"
I didn't realize Thorin was still gripping my arm, until he used it to tug me around to face him, and I almost balked at how wild his eyes were, "I must send them home, I cannot let them walk into death this way! Any of your predictions could be wrong, every change you make throws more of what you know into the fire. I must send them home. I-"
"No!" I interrupted him fiercely, clapping a hand over his mouth, "You know they'll just follow you if you try, and two sons of the line of Durin alone in the wilds is a rich gift for your enemies! Do not allow your love to turn into irrational fear. Sharpen your fear of losing them into a knife against your enemies, hone it so sharp that they do not even feel the cut. But to do that you have to control it," I released his mouth, "Do you understand me, Thorin? You control your fear, it doesn't control you. That is what leads to the wise decisions I know you can make."
He stared at me with wide eyes, then glanced up at Dwalin. I didn't dare look away from his face, but whatever he saw in his friend must have grounded him, for when he looked back at me, all I saw was fierce determination, "Between us," he whispered, "The three of us, they will be protected."
I nodded, "Yes."
"Aye, laddie," Dwalin put in, "Just as the two of us will protect you."
Thorin looked conflicted, but eventually nodded. Then realized how he was gripping my arm, and let go like he'd been burned. He was looking at my arm with something akin to horror, and I glanced down, expecting to see something, only to remember that I was wearing a long sleeve shirt. I glanced up at Dwalin, who sort of grimaced and gestured for me to roll up my sleeve.
As expected, Thorin's grip was red, and would obviously bruise a bit, but both dwarrow seemed much more upset by this than I was.
"It's just a bit of a bruise," I rolled my sleeve down, "I'm pale, so it doesn't take much for me to bruise. Besides, I did just tell you something rather devastating."
"That's no excuse to hurt a woman of any race," Thorin spat out fiercely.
Ho boy, looks like its intro to the 'women are precious' talk.
"Womenfolk are precious, especially to the dwarrow," What'd I say? "There are so few left, after the desolation of Smaug."
I… wasn't expecting that one. I thought dwarrowdams were always kinda scarce?
"Not to, uh, devalue that or offend you at all, but as much as I find being considered precious touching, I'm also a person, and not exactly breakable. I'll be fine. Besides," I glanced up at Dwalin, "Training is going to be a bit pointless if you aren't willing to hit me."
Both dwarrow grimaced, and Dwalin threw Thorin a look before returning to his post at the door. Oookaaay?
"Aria, while I agree that you need training, and that you will inevitably be bruised during such, that still does not excuse my hurting you. You have my sincerest apologies, and as a service of my remorse, I will train you myself."
I never thought I'd see a king bow his head to me that way, and nearly choked when he offered to train me. I mean, seriously? Training from only the most impressive dwarf ever. But his head was still bowed, and that was making me extremely uncomfortable, so, in typical fashion, I made a complete idiot of myself.
"Wait, really? I get to learn from you?" My voice didn't go up a legit three octaves, nope. No way. He looked up, startled, and I 100% took that as an invitation to humiliate myself further: I flung my arms around his neck (ouch), "Thank you."
Thorin didn't react as fast as I realized what I'd done, and I jerked back before he could do anything, blushing bright red, "And, uh, you're forgiven. I mean, you don't have to train me for my forgiveness, you'd have it anyway, because, I mean, you didn't mean to, and it's just a bit of a bruise, and I feel like there's nothing to forgive, but if you want it you have it."
Aaaand back to the word vomit. My blush deepened.
I was kind of expecting him to chuckle (which, wow), or at least smile, but he still looked very solemn.
"I say I am not my Grandfather, yet look at me," he muttered so quietly, I figured I wasn't meant to hear. But like, I couldn't just let that one go, because oh buddy.
"I am looking, and I don't see Thror," He looked at me sharply, "I see Thorin Oakenshield, King in Exile who has worked his whole life to fix what his grandfather broke. I see a dwarf of the highest quality and calibre, with the weight of a mountain on his shoulders. I won't tell you you couldn't ever be Thror, because that kind of arrogance would only lead you into his footprints, but right now you aren't, and if you remember that, and what makes you who you are now: love, determination, loyalty, honor; then you can overcome the sickness he fell to. If you remember that no amount of gold is ever worth the lives of those you love, or the innocent, then you can weather your struggles."
Doubt crept into his expression, and I winced.
"I'm not going to lie to you Thorin, you will struggle with the dragon sickness as you get closer to the mountain, but you can and you will overcome it. You have before."
Probably not how time works, but he needed that, I think. He was obviously grieved that he'd fallen to it at all, but the fact that he was capable of overcoming it also bolstered his determination, and his eyes blazed like blue flame.
"I think I shall say I will not be rather than I am not. In order not to forget that it is still a possibility I must fight."
He nodded, and I smiled. This time, he returned it, even if only a little bit.
"Come Aria, we should get you off the floor and have Oin take another look at your ribs. Which," he levelled me with a stern glare, "Reminds me that I need to scold you for chasing off your healer. How else are you to get well?"
He stood, and hauled me bodily to my feet. I grit my teeth against my protesting ribs. Now that most of the emotional turmoil was over, they were kicking my ass.
"I thank you for your words in our defense, but you should not have spoken so."
"On the contrary," Thorin offered me his arm, then escorted me back into the hallway, Dwalin following, "There was a great deal more I wanted to say, and at least a little more I should have. No person should belittle another just because of racial differences. All that leads to is war, and death and all sorts of other evil that has no place between the Free Peoples. I had to watch my world tear itself apart with all the people fighting each other, and I refuse to see it here. If I can do something to nip it in the bud before it gets that bad, I will."
"Very wise, Aria Renwick of Earth. I see that Insiloth was correct in saying you could make even those of the Eldar seem like fools."
I squeaked. And jumped. And Thorin went stiff as a board while Dwalin started to legitimately growl.
"Lord Elrond! I guess I shouldn't be all that surprised that you know names I haven't told anyone yet. I will say though, I didn't mean to make Insiloth feel like a fool, only point out the harm in her beliefs and error in her actions. Whether or not that's wisdom, is, in my opinion, debatable."
"Is there something you needed, Lord Elrond?" Thorin cut in stiffly.
"As a matter of fact, it is something you need, Master Oakenshield. Or rather, the lovely lady on your arm. Insiloth informed me that Lady Renwick requires treatment, but has requested a, less prejudiced healer. Seeing as I cannot hope to know all the beliefs and opinions of every healer in my halls, I decided I would treat the Lady myself. If," he nodded to me, "She has no objections, of course."
I felt my cheeks heat, and ducked my head, "No objection at all, My Lord. Only, I would hate for you to waste your time on such injuries as mine, that could easily be treated by someone else."
"Nonsense," he dismissed with a wave, "Besides, I desire very much to speak with you. Come," he turned away down the hall, robe swishing about his ankles.
Following after him, Thorin threw me a look, and ducked close to mutter something, but I shook my head. No matter how quietly he thought he could whisper, Lord Elrond would hear. And I didn't trust that he wouldn't say something offensive. Or, you know, a secret that he didn't want Lord Elrond to hear. Not that Thorin would be telling me secrets, why would tell me secrets? And what did Elrond want to speak with me about anyway?
...being from another world, maybe?
It took great effort not to sigh. Why did things have to be so complicated?
The walk to my room was completed in silence, Dwalin hovering awkwardly on our heels. Whenever I glanced back at where he was breathing down my neck, he was glaring daggers at the back of Elrond's head. Would this be considered some form of weird mutual racism, or were the Elves racist oppressors? No, they didn't live in the same societies at all, and treated each other literally the same, so it appeared to be a mutual issue. Except at least the dwarrow didn't think the Elves were stupid, just silly and weak.
Which… Honestly not much better.
I resisted another sigh. Again, why did things have to be so complicated?
But for now, we were guests in the Elves' home, and it was more important to keep things marginally civil than try to fix literal centuries of racial tension. That was a problem for tomorrow Aria. Today Aria had to worry about her ribs not staging a full on mutiny.
Arrival at the room was kind of awkward, because Thorin and Dwalin cam right in after us, then stood there like lumps. Lord Elrond raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything, making both dwarrow's scowls deepen. This time, I didn't resist my sigh.
"Thorin, Dwalin, I'm going to have to take off my top. Please either wait outside or go do something else. Whatever you do, you are going to have to at least leave my room. Lord Elrond is a healer, he's not going to try anything untoward just because we're alone in a room together. But, if you're that worried, you can wait right outside the door if you want. I appreciate your concern, but you guys don't get to see me with my shirt off."
Satisfyingly enough, they both looked suitably chastised, and Dwalin even blushed a little bit, turning very abruptly to march out the door. Thorin was a little more cool-headed.
"We will be just outside, all you have to do is call if you need anything," he glared at Elrond, then turned and marched out after Dwalin.
Seriously, dwarves.
But Elrond just sort of chuckled lightly when the door closed, and gestured elegantly for me to sit on the bed. Yes, elegantly. Everything the dude did was elegant. He probably even fell off cliffs elegantly. Or, you know, didn't even fall off in the first place. I sat.
"You seem to have made loyal companions of the dwarves. Unusual, for one not of their kin."
I paused in trying to get my shirt off, and squinted up at him, "I guess? I mean, life or death situations tend to bond people together fast. And well, it's been a weird couple of days."
He smiled, moving to help me, "Indeed. It is certainly not every day that one finds oneself in an entirely different world."
I snorted, "True, that. Or fights trolls, or meets wizards, or gets chased by an Orc pack. Or, even, falls off a cliff, yet that's the most mundane thing that's happened."
"More mundane than meeting a troop of dwarves?"
"Dwarrow, actually, and yes," I shrugged, "My world doesn't exactly have dwarrow, or elves, or really anything other than men."
"How fascinating," he opened his mouth to continue, but that's when the last of the bandages fell away, and he interrupted himself to tsk and frown at me, "Now, whatever you have been up to this morning must not have been very gentle, to reverse Insiloth's work in this way."
I glanced down, and blinked. What did he mean? It sure looked better than I thought it would. I looked back up at him, "It looks better than I expected, I'm not sure what you mean?"
"The healing of the elves would have this gash," he ran a finger lightly down the gash on my side, "Closed completely, and the bruising gone. Your ribs," he poked at them, and I winced, "Should no longer be so tender, either."
The only thing I could do is shrug, how was I supposed to know? "Maybe the, uh, healing magic isn't taking as well because of my otherworldly origins?" 'Cause yeah, maybe I wasn't the nicest to my body this morning, but you can't actually make a bruise that's gone come back.
"Perhaps…" he frowned, brows furrowed, then commenced to mutter quietly to himself in elvish while prodding at my injuries.
I took the chance to catalogue. The gash really did look a lot better, the ends were closed, and had that shiny pinkish look of new skin, and the middle had the flaky scab with white edges that usually only shows up after a couple of weeks. The bruise was a faded, gross sort of yellow, and smaller. Most of the bruises along my arms, and the rest of the ones on my torso had disappeared, but a few were that same yellowish shade, and one on my forearm was still a very angry purple. The handprint from Thorin, I noticed, was in the stage between the immediate red irritation and an actual bruise showing up, and I could only be thankful that Elrond wouldn't see it. It would undoubtedly make my efforts to create some understanding between the two races that much more difficult.
"Lay down, please," Elrond asked suddenly, still frowning.
I did, wincing a little at the way everything pulled.
"There is something I wish to examine, in the way your body reacts to magic. I do not expect that you will feel anything, however, you might feel some warmth. Worry not, it shan't hurt."
Not entirely sure what to say, I didn't say anything.
"Close your eyes."
I did.
"Think of your injuries, how they felt when you arrived in Imladris, how they felt this morning, how they feel now. Remember what you thought of them, and how you received them."
I obeyed, but found it difficult to focus as a weird, tingly sort of warmth started in my scalp and crept down my head. When it was near the base of my throat, he made a thoughtful sound, and spoke again.
"Pain now, I want you to contemplate how the pain from your injuries affects you."
How the pain…? I frowned. It was annoying, and uncomfortable, and made me want to revert to a whiny child. Except when you used it. ...Ah. Thank you very much weirdly dramatic brain voice. But yes, as much as I didn't want to, I had to admit that I used the pain in a very unhealthy way. Normal people don't use pain as a grounder, or coping mechanism, or whatever. That was reserved for messed up folks like me, writhing in the depths of depression land. OKay, so, that wasn't very charitable to myself, but the only way I got away with being truthful and telling my psychiatrist that I didn't self-harm was by using injuries I didn't give myself, and being a crummy patient so they didn't heal so fast.
Only, I'd never admitted that before, even in my own head, so why was I doing it now?
The tingly warmth suddenly vanished, leaving a weird temperature vacuum (and who knew it reached my feet?), and Lord Elrond let out a sigh that sounded a bit off. I cracked open an eye to peek up at him, only to find him regarding me with the worst pitying/disappointed/sad father eyes I'd ever seen. I quickly closed my eye again.
...Oh fuck me in the ass with a cactus.
Elrond knew.
