A short sort of interlude in which you and Thorin come to an understanding in the Middle Earth equivalent of a hot tub.

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The decision is made to rest on the Carrock until Thorin regains his strength. He fights this, claiming that he could go right on, and is summarily ignored. It's hilarious to see him grow visibly more frustrated as Oin tends to his many wounds. Only the hard, keen eye of a nearby Dwalin stops him from swatting the healer's hands away.

The eagles make a supply drop of blankets, wood, and animals for dinner. You neither knew nor cared where these offerings came from; you waved gratefully at them as they soar in circles above.

"You can rest easy here, my friends," Gandalf tells the company. "The eagles will patrol the nearby lands."

Rest! You sigh in relief at the mere mention of the word. Now that the action has wound down and there's no more need for adrenaline, you begin to feel the full force of the battering you took last night. The scratches across your chest were deep enough to bleed, but they are scabbed over now. You can't be bothered with cleaning them presently. Purple and blue bruises adorn your skin like discolored chicken pox, and a particularly terrible mark spans the entire right side of your rib cage from where the white warg pawed you. To top it all off, every muscle aches from overuse, and you are a profound level of exhausted.

Directly beneath the Carrock is a sort of cave roofed by the great promontory. This is where you and the company retreat for some well-earned sleep. For once you are indifferent to the stone floor; you take a blanket and lie down without wishing once for a mattress. At this point, you could have fallen asleep anywhere, perhaps even standing up.

Night has fallen when you wake. At first you're not quite sure what disturbed you, then a series of shuffles draws your attention. You're not the only one up; amidst the inert figures and thunderous snoring, one particular figure is stumping towards the lower cliffs.

"Thorin!" You rush over and grab his arm. "What are you doing? Are you alright? Should I get Oin?"

He makes a face and pulls his arm away. "I do not need help!"

"What are you doing?"

"I was going to the hot springs."

"Hot springs? Mmm, good idea."

"I was going alone."

"And now you're going with company, so deal with it."

Down on the lower cliffs of the Carrock are several pools of heated water running from wells deep in the earth. Thorin plops down beside one and undresses. You blink at him and feel your cheeks heat up. He glances up and sees you staring but does not comment. Once in nothing but his trousers, he slips into the pool with a grunt of pleasure.

You shed everything but your shirt and enter beside him. The hot water scours the injuries you left unchecked; you whimper in pain and relief. You sink in up to your chin and sigh.

"Do not think I didn't see you," Thorin murmurs.

"See me what? Staring at you stripping?"

"Earlier. You and the hobbit...he came for me while you went for Azog."

"Yeah, wasn't one of my better ideas..." you say sagely, warming your chilly ears.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why did you risk yourself? Why would you take on Azog alone? It was reckless and unwise - "

"Look who's talking!" you laugh. "I told you not to. See what happens when you don't listen to me?"

"You have no fight with Azog," he argues.

You shrug. "He was trying to kill you. That made it my fight."

"I don't understand why it matters to you."

"Really? You really don't? Even after I've told you a million times? Why don't you think about it for a minute."

Thorin falls silent. You don't know if he's actually thinking or just brooding.

You say quietly, "I could tell you why I was so adamant in joining you. The real reason."

He looks at you and can't disguise the interest in his tone when he says, "Tell me."

"I came because you and Fili and Kili were supposed to die before you ever got to claim the throne."

His eyes widen slightly. "Where? When? How? No, I would not put them in needless danger - "

"It's okay!" you say soothingly. "It's not going to happen now. Not on my watch. That's why I came with you."

"You came along...to keep me alive?"

"Yeah, and you've been making my job a lot harder than it needs to be."

"But why would you care? What purpose would it serve the elves to have me as King Under the Mountain?"

"The elves wouldn't benefit at all. Nobody sent me or assigned me this. I came of my own free will because I want you as King Under the Mountain. I want you to reclaim your homeland. I want you to lead your people like you were meant to."

Thorin stares at you, lost for words. You hold his gaze calmly. He finally demands, "Tell me why this means so much to you."

It's an easy request to oblige; you've been ruminating on these feelings since earth. "Because you did whatever was necessary to keep your people alive. Because even though it's hard for you to show it, you are kind, Thorin, and you have a good heart. Because you deserve good things. Because - "

He nods almost eagerly for you to continue.

Instead of admitting your burning love for him, you finish, "Because it's your destiny."

Thorin muses on your words. "Then," he murmurs, "it seems I owe you another apology."

You blink at him in surprise. "What?"

"I see now that your intentions are pure - almost frighteningly so. I believe it may be in my best interest to take your opinions into consideration if you are truly trying to keep me alive. Also...I may have some regrets about chasing you up the tree in Rivendell."

You laugh loudly at this. "You do not!"

Thorin actually smiles. "Maybe one - did the elf-lord scold you greatly?"

"No, he just fancied a chat."

"Then you're right, I have no regrets there."

You chuckle as you settle back into the warm waters. "Thorin, this looks like the beginning of a beautiful friendship."