We're finally leaving Rivendell! Yay! Thanks for y'all's support, love you guys!
Telling Uncle Balin went surprisingly well.
We got a couple of raised eyebrows when Thorin, 'adad, and Uncle followed me into my room, but it was really the only place we could be absolutely certain there weren't eavesdroppers. As long as we spoke quietly enough that those in the courtyard couldn't hear us. And Uncle didn't do any of the shouting and exclaiming Thorin had done, instead just frowning and humming and even (honest to gods) stroking his beard. The questions were probably the hardest part. Shrewd in regards to Uncle would be an understatement, and boy did he prove it.
"Our Master Baggins has a larger role to play in this than we expected, doesn't he?"
I nodded, "More than you could ever guess, really."
"Hmm," he tilted his head and closed his eyes briefly, "And Gandalf less of one."
"He gets a little derailed at one point, but I'm hoping I can persuade him otherwise."
"And the dragon sickness is a problem."
I snorted, "That's one way of putting it. The only question is how many of us it will affect."
Thorin jerked. "How many?"
I blinked. "Right, we didn't go over that. In one version you, Fili, and Kili have it worse, but all of you except Bilbo were affected. In the other, it was only you. I'm not sure which it will be, or if it will be just you and the boys, or what. However, I have a hypothesis that only the King Under the Mountain is afflicted."
Uncle Balin frowned thoughtfully at me. "And what would that be?"
I winced. "Um… something none of you will be happy about, and that definitely won't go over well, so I'm rather reluctant to say it."
'Adad and Thorin scowled at me, but Uncle gestured them to back off.
"Aris." It was odd hearing anyone other than 'adad say it, but I nodded. "You are a daughter of the line of Fundin now, and just because you say something displeasing doesn't mean we will abandon you."
I blushed and retreated behind hunched shoulders and a dipped chin, but didn't say anything. What could I say? He'd landed on exactly what I was afraid of.
There was a brief exchange in Khuzdul, Thorin and 'adad sounding very, well, growly, and Uncle Balin as gentle and stern.
I shuffled my feet.
"Aris." I glanced up at 'adad, but couldn't bring myself to unfold. He sighed and approached where I was standing by my bed, guiding me with a firm hand on my shoulder to take a seat. Instead of joining me though, he knelt on the floor in front of me and took both my hands in his, resting them on my knees.
After a moment of just staring at each other, I heaved a sigh, dropping my gaze to our hands and shrugging. "This isn't going to be an easy journey, 'adad, and some of the unpleasant things I can't prevent, it would mean the end of the world. And as much as I might damn the rest of the world to save my family, you live in this world, and it ending would mean your death as surely as anything. Even more surely really. And well, I'm just terrified some of the close calls won't just be close calls, and that you'll all hate me for not forewarning you so you could be better prepared, or that one of you might die." The last thought brought a knot into my throat, and I struggled fiercely to blink back my tears. "Once we leave Rivendell," I choked, "Anything could happen, no matter what I do to try and protect you. 'Adad was right, even the best warriors can't be everywhere at once, and I'm not a warrior. I'm a young woman way out of my depth."
"I disagree." Thorin sat next to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. "You may not be the most trained fighter, but you are a warrior more than most. You fight with all your heart, and in all you do."
I sighed and leaned into him a bit. "But that doesn't mean I will be able to protect all of you. Really it means little to nothing in the face of an angry pack of Wargs or Orcs."
"And when did it become your job to protect all of us, lassie?" I could hear Uncle's raised eyebrow in his voice.
"When I plopped into this world? I know things, and knowledge is power, and with great power comes great responsibility."
"Ach, lass." 'Adad shook his head. "You wouldn't blame Thorin if any of us died now, would you?"
I jerked upright. "Of course not!"
He raised an eyebrow and shrugged, "Then why would you blame yourself?"
"What? How is that at all the same?"
"He's our King," he shrugged, "The one who decided the dwarrow of Ered Luin need Erebor reclaimed, and gathered us for this journey. He has and will make many decisions that result in the deaths of other dwarrow, because of his power and responsibility, yet none blame him. He is a good king, and does his best."
I glanced at the dwarf beside me. He really was a good king, better than either the books or movies portrayed him. And a good person too, which really was a miracle. I sighed and nodded.
'Adad let go of one hand to reach up and tug my newest braid. "Besides, no one can doubt the strength of your arm."
I couldn't help but give a bit of a grin. "Thanks, 'adad."
We sat there for another moment, before 'adad stood up. Interestingly, he gave a brief nod to Thorin and turned away, as if to give us a moment of privacy.
I glanced at Thorin.
He gave that same soft smile from the day before, and grasped one of my hands in his, the arm around my shoulder tightening a little.
Oookaay?
"Aris." Even his voice was softer than usual. "No matter what happens when we leave this place, I shall never abandon you or cast you away."
It took me half a second to process, but when I did I just kind of gaped at him. Finally, I whispered, "What are you saying?"
"I trust you." But his eyes seemed to say something a little different, and he brought my hand up to his cheek and closed his eyes. I didn't even dare breathe. "I trust you."
We sat like that for at least a minute, until I realized I was ever so slightly caressing his cheekbone with my fingertips and pulled my hand away. I was still staring at him though, so when he opened his eyes they caught on mine immediately, and what little air I had was immediately lost. There was so much warmth.
"Thorin."
He gave me that little smile again (I'm not having an aneurysm, you are), then slowly reached up to tug my braid, just as 'adad had. "No one can doubt the strength of your heart. You will do your best, Aris, as will the rest of us."
…
Holy shit he touched my hair.
Thorin fucking Oakenshield touched my fucking hair.
I blushed brighter than a tomato, then keeled over to bury my face in the crook of his neck.
Which put me close enough to his hair to be panic inducing.
...Since when did I care so much about hair?
Since I got adopted by a dwarf apparently.
I realized I was hyperventilating when Thorin picked me up to settle my back against his chest. Which, okay, like, seriously how strong is this dude? And Now 'adad can see how bad I'm blushing. And Not helping Thorin, not helping.
I swear to gods I'd had more panic attacks in the last week and a half than in the last ten years. Combined.
By the time I had control over my breathing again, 'adad was sitting on the bed as well, and Uncle had apparently quit the room.
'Adad, noticing me looking, shook his head, "He's just fetching tea."
I nodded. I didn't feel like speaking though, so I didn't. Instead, I shifted to rest more comfortably against Thorin, which meant kicking my feet up onto the bed and curling up against his chest like some sort of baby, but I was too tired to care. It had to be about midnight, and it'd been a long week. Plus, panic attack.
I reached out for my 'adad's hand.
When Uncle Balin came back, it was to an almost perfect reenactment of the night by the fire, Thorin holding me and singing softly while 'adad massaged my hands, and me drifting off into la la land. I came back for tea though. Tea is life. Tea is also a diuretic, and the last thing I needed right now was to be less hydrated, but tea.
While I say I came back for tea, what I really mean is I made some truly pathetic whiny sounds, and could barely hold the cup myself, which resulted in Thorin chuckling and helping me drink it.
...In case it wasn't obvious, emotional and physical overload plus being tired one hundred percent revert me to being a toddler.
…
…
At least Thorin seemed to find it cute?
Kill me now.
Far too tired to turn conscious thought to the subconscious thought that sparked the latest panic attack, or to, you know, move, I totally passed out on Thorin before even handing over the tea cup. I might have muttered something along the lines of "nightynight" but who knows.
I woke up to a hand rubbing up and down my back, and the increasingly familiar sensation of Thorin's voice vibrating through my collarbone. Through my whole body, really. Except maybe my extremities.
"It is time to go, Aris."
I hummed, but didn't move. Thorin gave far too excellent cuddles.
He chuckled, but pushed me away slightly. "Up Aris, else we'll never be free of this place."
"Thorin," I definitely wasn't whining.
"Aris."
...wait a second.
Thorin?
I jerked the rest of the way awake, and flailed my way out of his arms, only to find myself tumbling straight off the side of my bed, much to the amusement of my 'adad, who's boots I'd nearly landed on.
I groaned.
"Good morning, Aris."
I squinted up at him. "No, 'adad. It isn't morning yet, therefore it isn't a good one."
Thorin, now climbing off the bed, chuckled. "But it is morning for us, at least for today."
"True," I sighed. Seeing as neither dwarf seemed particularly inclined to comment on or tease me about last night's sleeping arrangements, I peeled myself off the floor and stumbled to the vanity to splash cold water on my face. That woke me right up. Geez did someone put ice in this thing?
There was some further chuckling as I sniped and mumbled at inanimate objects while collecting my belongings, but soon Thorin gave me a brief hug, then slipped out the door.
A brief but affectionate hug.
I stared after him.
"Aris." I yelped and jumped, having entirely forgotten 'adad was still in the room.
"Aris," he repeated, then paused.
"Yes 'adad?"
He regarded me carefully, putting a hand on my shoulder and fiddling with the end of my foundling braid. "Do you understand, now?"
I gulped and looked away, resisting the urge to fidget. "Understand?"
Trying to pretend ignorance didn't work though, not with him looking at me like that, and I deflated.
"Yes," I whispered. Then shrugged. "Or maybe? I don't-" I took a deep breath and flapped my hands. "I can't-" Another deep breath. "I want so badly, but, but 'adad he's, he's a king. How can he? I'm just," I made a helpless gesture, "Just a human foundling."
He sighed and pulled me forward to rest our foreheads together. "You are Aris Dwalindottïr, of the noble line of Fundin. But even if we were not a noble line, remember what I said of Ones, Aris. There is nothing more sacred."
That didn't make any of this less overwhelming, but that was at least somewhat comforting. One less barrier, I guess.
I nodded, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Come 'adad, Thorin will soon grow impatient. Besides, we wouldn't want to get stuck here."
"No, we wouldn't."
The rest of the Company was settling the last of their gear as we emerged, and it was only moments before we were on our way. Our surprisingly quiet way. Apparently, dwarrow could be subtle—under threat of being stuck in an elven city.
Thorin led the line of us through the silent hallways, Uncle Balin just behind him, and 'adad and I bringing up the rear. Bilbo was just in front of me, and while the hobbit did glance around a bit wistfully, I didn't get the sense that he was nearly as sad to be leaving as in the movies. This was a Hobbit accepted into the Company, not one questioning why he should help anyone who treated him like such trash.
Once we left the building, winding our way briefly through a garden and then onto a path rising out of the valley, Thorin stepped aside for Balin to take the lead. Then, instead of stepping back into the line like I expected, he continued to wait until I reached him, then stepped in behind me. I glanced back at him, but he only nodded, so I just gave him a smile and continued to climb out into the mountains. After a few minutes, 'adad and Thorin began to murmur in Khuzdul, so I tuned them out humming snippets of old walking or marching songs that I couldn't remember the words to. Occasionally, Bilbo would glance back as if in recognition, or start making up lyrics quietly, just so Bofur (who was ahead of him) and I could hear. Bilbo actually had a very pleasant voice, and had been invited to sing at the campfire shortly after the night he chased Gandalf off. It was beginning to become a bit of a legendary incident, making me increasingly upset I'd missed it.
By the time the sun was high enough to consider it midmorning, Rivendell was already a distant memory. The terrain was difficult, and often the Company could only travel single file, scrambling over rocks and even sometimes passing a rope back to help guide around particularly precarious outcroppings. Thorin and 'adad had given up talking, except for directives now and again to help Bilbo and I. Though, mostly, Bofur would end up helping Bilbo. It was beginning to get warm though, so we all paused for a moment to shed layers and rearrange packs.
Thorin took this opportunity to tread up and back along the line, checking Balin about the route, then exchanging at least some words with each member of the company as he worked his way back. There was some reshuffling at the front as well, Thorin placing Bifur just behind Balin, then Fili, then Kili. It sandwiched the rest of the company between perhaps the most well-trained fighters. Gloin and Nori were also shuffled to the middle, and Bilbo to in front of Bofur rather than behind. He left me be in front of him, and kept 'adad at the rear. Trouble, evidently, was more expected on these mountain paths.
We stopped early that evening, both because of the early morning, and finding a convenient place to make camp. As soon as everything was set up, and Bombur started on dinner, I found a patch of dirt and began to stretch. All I wanted to do was flop down on my bedroll (between Thorin and 'adad. Um, awkward much?), but I knew that I'd be as good as crippled with sore muscles in the morning if I didn't stretch now. Oh, I'd still be miserable, but I might at least be functional.
"It wouldn't be wise to train tonight, lass." I glanced up in surprise at Gloin, not having spoken to the dwarf much.
"Oh, I'm not planning on training, just trying to not be so sore in the morning. My legs are not used to treks like this."
Bilbo stood with a groan and came to join us. "I should probably stretch too, then."
I chuckled. "You are always welcome to join me. I'll even teach you some stretches specific to the muscles we used today."
By the time I was done, the boys had also joined us (probably out of pure boredom), Bifur had decided to try it out, and 'adad had joined too, though with a grunt and a glare at the boys. No goofing off, it said, This is serious business.
Or something like that.
I was a little surprised Thorin hadn't joined us, but he was hunched over some project. I'd never seen him do that before, as much as the other dwarrow were usually fiddling with something, so I was unbearably curious. However, asking what it was would mean approaching him, and approaching him while we weren't occupied with scrabbling up the side of a mountain suddenly seemed awfully intimidating.
...wuss.
As soon as I was done stretching though, Bombur was ready with dinner, and the boys distracted me by abducting me to sit with them and Ori to tell them a story. Nori and Gloin lurked nearby, pretending not to listen, but only Nori succeeded in being at all subtle about it. Even Bifur, sitting next to me and whittling on something, seemed to be listening intently as I told them a very truncated version of my favorite childhood book, Castaways of the Flying Dutchman. The Hobbit had come a bit later, and I couldn't tell them that one anyway.
Thorin seemed engrossed in his project anyway, 'adad had to practically force him to pause long enough for food.
We ended the night with some songs, a little less boisterous than usual, perhaps, now that we were in more dangerous territory. And, as had become increasingly common, the boys (and Ori) begged for me to finish the night with a lullaby or two, or, if they were feeling particularly nostalgic, "Loyal Brave and True." This was one such night.
By the time I finished my song, most of the dwarrow were nodding off, so I extracted myself carefully from the pile of younger dwarrow (all snoring, now), and made my way to where 'adad had shifted my bed roll more snugly between his and Thorin's. Awkward. But perhaps the safest place, which, with how protective the two of them were quickly becoming, made sense. Thorin wasn't in his bedroll though, having shifted closer to the firelight to continue his work. 'Adad was apparently on first watch, as he was just sitting on top of his. He tucked me in though, fiddling briefly with my foundling braid before resting a hand quietly on my shoulder and humming lowly.
That, I thought, is entirely unfair.
I was asleep almost before the thought finished.
