The next morning they wake to Mara brushing dust off her clothes with Kili's knife in her teeth. They both need a minute to regain control of themselves. The sun shining through the window makes the threadbare shirt she's wearing almost see-through, showing them a faint outline of the body underneath it. That, combined with their admitted weakness for armed women, make them both need a minute to regain thoughts other than JUMP HER NOW! When blood finally stops rushing southward they clamber out of the man-sized bed, eager to do the work their hands were meant for.
~/~/~/
Mara watches the brothers work, their movement synchronized. Each hammer fall is precise, each knowing exactly where the other will strike. There's something hypnotic about it, and the afternoon is deepening to twilight by the time she realizes that the blacksmith has been staring at her for almost an hour. When her eyes meet his she sees something in them, but he looks away before she can recognize it. As they leave for the day she can feel the smith's eyes burning into her back and for the rest of the night she can't settle down. She sits in the window, watching the streets as the dwarves head downstairs to drink. She looks away to smile at them when they get back, staggering slightly, and then her eyes are focused on the street again. It's been almost ten years since she was here, but what she had done wasn't easily forgotten. Kili asks her if she would like to sleep in the bed tonight, and although her skin tingles at the thought of her limbs twining with theirs, she just smiles and shakes her head.
Moonlight silvers the streets and rooftops, everything simple in pale moonlight and black moonshadows. The brothers toss and turn for a long time, and more than once she can feel their eyes on her. Mara shifts her seat so she can still look out the window while she faces them, one foot bracing her on the sill while the other taps out a rhythm.
~/~/~/
It feels like hours since he and Fili lay down to sleep, tossing and turning as Mara stares at the street like she expects a barrow wight to suddenly appear. His brother is having just as hard a time as he, sleep not coming easy to either of them regardless of the good drink they'd had. Cloth rustles as Mara moves in the window, when he glances at her he can see her eyes watching him in return, reflecting moonlight at him. Her foot gently taps the floor as she starts to sing a song he's never heard before.
Nature, nurture heaven and home
Sum of all, and by them, driven
To conquer every mountain shown
But I've never crossed the river
Braved the forests, braved the stone
Braved the icy winds and fire
Braved and beat them on my own
Yet I'm helpless by the river
It's a slow song, a sad song, but she sings it with hope in her voice. It makes his breath catch in his throat. Fili lies still next to him, as enraptured with Mara's song as he is.
She sings it beautifully, her voice changing to match each verse. The anguish and frustration in her voice makes him want to hold her, to tell her he's there, his brother is there, but his body won't move, limbs sinking into heaviness as his eyes droop with weariness.
~/~/~/
Mara can hear the change in Fili and Kili's breathing, and she knows that they've fallen asleep, but she finishes the song anyway. The tune is as much for her comfort as it is for theirs.
And together we'll cross the river...
Mara holds the last note, listening to it as it fades into silence. She tries to remember where she first heard the song and fails. It's always been in her mind, humming through her thoughts when she gets nervous. She presses her forehead against the window and starts another song.
Sing me a song my true love tomorrow...
Outside, it begins to rain.
~/~/~/
Fili wakes to a grey dawn and Mara's voice. He wonders if she had been singing all night. Kili asks her on their way to the smithy as they dodge puddles and people going about their business as fast as they can.
"I couldn't sleep. Singing keeps me company." Fili shrugs off the fact that every night they were on the road she hadn't had a problem with sleep, nestled between the two of them. Some people can't stand being under a roof, and given what they knew about Mara's history, it was understandable.
When they finally make it to the blacksmith's, they find the grizzled old man isn't there. Fili finds it strange, but he's a dwarf. He's meant to work the forge regardless of weather or health. The cooled sword sings to him, and his hands itch for a hammer. He lets all the troubling thoughts go and focuses on remakeing the sword in front of him.
~/~/~/
Mara breathes a sigh of relief when she realizes the blacksmith isn't there, the tension winding around her spine and shoulders breaking with an almost audible snap. She settles into a corner to watch her friends at their work. The thought makes her rear back and blink in shock. Friends? She doesn't have friends, not any more. Her last friend had spit on her the day after kissing her. She watches the two brothers, thinking on the inexplicable sense of peace and safety she feels around them. Thinking that maybe, just maybe, this time will be different. She watches the brothers work, a small smile on her lips, until her stomach grumbles. She leaves quietly, comes back even more so, holding a small sack. The dwarves don't notice her as she quickly slices the bread she'd bought from the inn with the knife Kili lent her two nights ago, they are so intent on their work they don't notice her toasting the bread and cheese on the heat of the fire. The only time they notice is when she places her hand on Fili's bare back (the brothers had stripped from the waist up soon after getting there, complaining about working in wet clothes. Mara hadn't complained.)
They sit together on the floor of the blacksmith's and eat toasted bread with melted cheese and meat, and when Mara produces two waterskins filled with ale the brothers make up silly songs about kind, beautiful Mara. She laughs along with them and for the first time in too long, she doesn't feel alone. Nightmare lies alone on the anvil, proud and deadly thanks to these two dwarves who can work miracles. Kili notices when her attention strays to the sword and asks if she would like any designs etched into the blade when they're finished. She can feel her face color, her eyes to heavy to look up and meet theirs.
"A warg." She mutters it quietly, like a child admitting a wrong it committed. She knows that the brothers have fought wargs, have been wounded by them. Everyone knows that wargs will take a sickly old dwarf over a hundred plump sheep any day. She knows that that twisting scar around Kili's shoulder comes from a warg's teeth, just like she knows the claw marks on Fili's back come from warg claws. She's seen the death wargs bring, she's seen it in this very town. There are faint white circles where a warg once bit the back of her neck, gently as if it were pulling a pup from danger, so gently and yet the fangs had still broken the skin.
"Why'd you want something like that?" Kili asks, voice thick with some emotion she doesn't know, a hand going up to unconsciously rub at the old, warped scars on his shoulder. Mara scrambles desperately for an answer, but her mind goes blank. She just shrugs instead. She still can't meet their eyes, this friendship is to new for her to risk telling them why. Fili notices the set in her shoulders and tugs his brother's hair. "Back to work Kee, otherwise this won't be finished before tomorrow."
Mara looks up, startled, when a hand lands on her shoulder.
"We'll etch your warg," Fili tells her, laughter in his eyes.
It's Fili, as he turns to his work, who starts singing. Kili remains silent for a long time before joining in.
Far over the misty mountains cold
To dungeons deep and caverns old
We must away ere break of day
To seek the pale enchanted gold.
The last note trails away and they hold Nightmare up for her inspection. Her breath catches in her throat. His blade shines like a new star in the firelight, the edge honed finer than he has ever known. They had rewrapped the grip at some point, it's still frayed cotton, but it's clean and new. An intricate warg silently snarls at her from below the crossguard. She stands, unable to express her gratitude with words, and kisses the brothers on the lips, first one then the other, before tracing her fingers along Nightmare's edge. She can feel the skin on the pads of her fingers split, like they'd been sliced on a piece of paper. "Nightmare, you beauty," she whispers, oblivious to the fire in the dwarves eyes as they look at her.
((A/N: The first song is Humbling River by Puscifer, and the second is the poem from the Hobbit book. Hope you've enjoyed this latest installment and are looking forward to the next one! Reviews are love!))