Chapter nine

Music drifted towards Huredhiel and me as we made our way to the Summer Hall. It had no roof and was a large circular terrace in reality. An elvish woman played her high harp and another played the wooden flute. Lilting and modal, the music cascaded down like water. The dwarves and Bilbo were seated at a long low table piled high with food while Elrond, Gandalf and Thorin sat around a round stone table. Lindir stood near the round table waiting on Elrond, his nursing his pride as he was not invited to eat with them.

"My ada will be expecting me for supper," Huredhiel embraced me tightly. "Come break your fast with me tomorrow morning –I will be waiting for more of your story!"

I laughed and she floated off down the corridor gracefully as I turned and stepped into the hall.

"Tallis!" Fili had a piece of bread half way to his mouth. "You look..."

"Like a woman now?" I finished for him. His mouth was still a little agape.

"Who was your elvish friend?" Kili asked; a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Huredhiel,"

"Do not even think about it," Fili laughed at his younger brother.

"What?" Kili shrugged, but he blushed a little.

"You both can come with me and break fast with her tomorrow morning," I offered.

Kili's impish smile stretched from ear to ear. Fili and I shoved him playfully and he batted us off abashedly. Both of them had damp hair still. They smelled much better than before. All of them did. Sitting down next to them, I reached for the bowl of salad and dumped a pile on my plate.

"Are going to eat that?" Fili poked at the greens on my plate.

"Yes,"

He looked at my plate, with an expression of surprise and disgust and took a bite out of his bread.

Ori examined a leaf of lettuce closely.

"Try it," Dori cajoled, "There's no harm in trying,"

"I don't like green food," Ori replied stoutly.

"Where's the meat?" Dwalin crossed his arms.

"The elves like to eat bread and greens first, and then the meat will come, I promise."

The dwarves looked at me skeptically and continued to eat the bread set out. Dori, Bilbo and I were the only ones who touched the salad.

"If you keep eatin' them, you'll turn into a rabbit," Gloin warned Dori.

Dori smacked him in the face with a leaf of lettuce. He turned back to his salad and sipped a little of his tea. Soon, thin slices of honey glazed ham were brought with finely scalloped potatoes in butter and cream. There were a few slices of apples, which had been marinated in what I guessed was cinnamon and sugar, arranged artfully around the plates. A large river trout seasoned with syrup of maples, garlic, and a dash of pepper was placed in front of us along with bowls of fresh water clams that had been cooked with basil and mushrooms. There was a dish of steamed green beans with what seemed to be venison sliced to thin, long slivers and a coney smelling of rosemary, thyme, garlic and slight whiff of wine. A duck that had been turning on a spit gleamed in the fading daylight. All around were piles of apricots, peaches, plums and cherries. I leapt for the plate of honey glazed ham first and got myself a few slices before the dwarves descended on the food like a mob of crows. I reached for the clams and nearly had my arm stabbed by Gloin's knife as he made for the coney. Kili had secured a large chunk of trout and Fili had pulled off the legs of the duck. Dwalin took eight pieces of ham while eating a plum. Bilbo happily set on the beans and venison, since that was one thing the dwarves did not touch. They finished everything very quickly, however, and were still hungry. Nori burped. The elves that came to take away the dishes grimaced at the speed the food was cleared. They brought little pastries and candied pears and apples for dessert.

Night had fallen. The torches flickered a little when a breeze swept past and Thorin, Gandalf, and Elrond soon left. I watched them disappear off down the hall. He hadn't even looked back. I supposed they were off to decipher the map, if Elrond knew anything more than we did, and if Thorin was going to willingly show Elrond the map. I made my way back to the guest house with the dwarves, who were disappointingly sober and grumbled loudly about it.

"Tallis," Bofur sidled up to me.

"What?" I asked, though I knew his request already.

"My darling lassie, can you please –,"

"Fine! Alright, alright!" I shook my head at him. "Fili, Kili, Bilbo –do you want to come?" I asked as I headed back down the corridor away from the direction of the guest house.

"Where?" Bilbo was a little suspicious.

"The kitchens."

They all sprinted towards me.

.

.

An elvish woman was in the kitchen tidying up as we stood at the door. Looking up from her washing, she wiped her hands on her apron. Her long brown hair was pulled back from her face and her graceful figure was very unlike the plump cooks they had everywhere else.

"And what can I do for you, Tallis? And Tallis' friends?"

"Hello Marilla," we embraced.

"Your company ate everything today, I am afraid your usual midnight snack will not be possible."

Bilbo deflated audibly.

"But," she turned back to her washing, a smile on her lips. "Perhaps a certain pantry has the latch still loose and unfixed from someone's adventures." She gave me a meaningful look.

I looked at her confused.

"A muse?" she hinted.

"Oh!" I laughed aloud and thanked her. We left, heading for a certain singer's abode. Huredhiel had told Marilla of her little escape into Lindir's rooms, then. I supposed her point of entry was his larder. We headed up the stairs.

"Shh!" Fili smacked Kili on the back of the head.

Kili had been bumped into Bilbo and sent the hobbit crashing into the wall. Bilbo picked himself up with a dirty look at Kili who tried apologizing in a whisper. I worked the latch of the window open and picked up my skirts and bunched them up around my thighs. Cursing under my breath, I stepped onto the rim of a pot that held little flowers and slipped clumsily through the window as my dress threatened to ride up to my waist. Finally through, I smoothed myself down and helped Bilbo get through the window.

"Stay out there!" I hissed at Kili who was trying to get in. I snatched up a wheel of cheese and whipped it through the window at him.

Bilbo and I pillaged sausages, three loaves of bread, a little barrel of salted pork, some dried fishes, and four wheels of cheese, a packet of cured beef, a few jars of preserved fruit, and I threw in a head of lettuce for good measure. These I passed out the window. Bilbo giggled nervously as he passed me the cheese.

I gave him a leg up and he went out the window.

There was a thump. "Ow!" It was Bilbo.

"Sorry," I heard Fili's voice. "My arms are full. I couldn't just drop the cheese!"

I stuck my head out.

"That's it?" Kili asked.

"Let's go," I ignored his comment and hopped out the window. I gathered up the string of sausages.

.

.

.

The dwarves raucously cheered as we returned with the food. There was a fire going in the middle of the courtyard outside the guesthouse. Squinting at them roasting the food we brought, I realized that I had no memory of a fire pit or brazier in the courtyard.

"How did you light the fire?" I asked Bofur who was throwing bits of the lettuce into the fire or at the other dwarves.

"With flint o' course," he winked at me and took a swig of wine from a mug.

Kili saw the wine. "Where did you get that?"

Bofur raised his mug. "Inside the guesthouse. We are well taken care of!"

Kili and Fili gave one another wicked grins and raced off. Turning back to the fire, I saw a piece of wood half burnt and lying half consumed in flame. It was chair leg. The dwarves must have broken a few chairs for their fire.

"There is a fireplace for fires, inside the guesthouse." I put my hands on my hips.

"Drink your wine," Gloin passed me a goblet. I took it grudgingly and left them to their eating.

The guesthouse did not have many walls. The ground floor was really just couches and a table and chairs arranged around the pillars holding the second floor up. It was completely open on the sides and behind some screens in the back were the springs for washing. Spiralling upwards, a staircase wound up two levels. There were a few wooden panels and screens arranged around the second and third floor, creating an open space but with the illusion of privacy. The breeze caressed my cheek gently as I made my way to the third floor.

I heard the sharpening of a blade. I paused and left my mug of wine on a wayward stool and picked my way over the pillows that had tumbled off the couches comfortably onto the impeccably clean floor. Not many dwarves had been up here, then. I stepped around a screen. Thorin was trimming his beard at a washstand. He stopped as he saw my reflection in the mirror.

"Did Elrond read the map?" I leaned against a pillar behind him.

He didn't turn, but met my eyes through the reflection of the mirror. "Yes. There were moon runes. There is a door that will show itself on Durin's day."

"Durin's day." I repeated.

"Yes,"

"That is not far away."

"Four months. We need to travel fast."

It was odd, talking to a reflection. He resumed trimming and I watched him quietly. Other than the dwarves who had not seen battle –Kili, Fili, and Ori –Thorin was the only one of the company who did not grow his beard and have it made elaborate to show his prowess in the field. I had asked him once why he did it. He had spoken of how as a mark of respect to the indignity suffered by his father and grandfather, who had their beards singed by Smaug. I spoke of it to Dis afterwards, and she smiled sadly. Perhaps he thought himself unworthy of the beard of a warrior. Perhaps he thought that with Erebor still lost to his people, he was still a failed king.

He splashed water onto his face from a lacquer basin. As he reached out for a towel and found none, I snatched one up from a pile a little ways away and handed it to him. He wiped his face dry.

"Thank you,"

I reached out to take it from him and our fingers brushed. Both of us ignored it deftly, but I could sense that he was unsettled as I was. Dropping the towel in the bin, I picked up my wine again and strode over to the railing and looked up at the clouds passing over the moon. A chill raced up my spine as I heard Thorin's heavy footsteps approaching from behind. He stopped, but I could not tell if he was paces away or right behind me. I dared not to turn, so I threw back the wine. I coughed. It was unwatered and heady and had such a rich base I gripped the balustrade for a moment.

"I suppose when we reach Erebor the Durin's Day festivities will be a little different than you had in Ered Luin."

"I do not know what awaits us at the mountain."

"We could get insanely drunk and just wait another year. We could celebrate our last Durin's day together. Oh Iluvatar. I am sorry. We will get that door open and the dragon is probably dead anyway. Then we can celebrate Durin's day inside and sleep in the jewels and gold."

He didn't reply.

My last Durin's day in Ered Luin was ... a little hard to forget. The dwarves brought out all of their barrels of wine and beer and food and just ate, drank, danced, sang, told stories and laughed until everyone was on the floor unable to breath. Dis had made a dwarvish dress for me and she had clucked at my less than ample breasts and boyish figure and fed me more bread. Not that that really mattered once everyone was intoxicated to the point when the entire night was usually a communal night of forgetfulness in the morning. Dori and Nori had their arms slung around one another as they staggered home and Ori had been taken home early and disappointedly, by his mother. Dwalin, Balin, and Oin were passed out under the tables and Gloin and Bombur had whisked their wives home to bed. I sort of had wanted to erase the image of Gloin and his wife kissing rather passionately and sloppily against a giant barrel of wine. Thorin and I had been dancing and he had steered us forcefully as far away from the two as possible, lest we had our eyes damaged any further. Bifur had still been drinking even as the fires were dying down. Bofur lay lazily against a fallen barrel and smoked his pipe happily. I had never seen Thorin drunk until then. His eyes were unguarded, and he was louder. Though drunk, I had been able to vigorously destroy the advances of an oily dwarf named Grutil who had tried to feel me up all evening. It had been a solidly tiring day and I stumbled back to my rooms trying to loosen my dress ties at the same time –thoroughly hot and uncomfortable. I had forgotten to shut the door.

"Made it home, then," Thorin stood in the doorway.

"I did!" I laughed. "Also, you may find Grutil lying by the fires still in the morning; since he will be nursing his two much bruised testicles that just chanced to collide with my knee."

He laughed –a rumbling sound. I turned away from him and squinted down at the ties at the front of my dress, picking at them unsuccessfully. Suddenly, a pair of hands slid gently around my waist, grazing the bottom of my ribs.

"Thorin?" I slurred.

I could feel his lips and his nose press into the back of my left shoulder where my dress had slipped down my shoulder. Moving slowly towards my spin, his lips and his beard left a tingling line across my damp skin. Arching my back, I gasped as his hands spread flat on my abdomen and one hand slipped a little higher and one a little lower. His arms pulled me against him and I pressed back almost desperately. He groaned into my back and my knees nearly buckled.

"Sorry." He pulled away with a whisper of regret. My skin had felt very empty then as I heard him stumble out.

I had spent the next day shuffling around slowly. No one worked at the forges. The sound and the fire and the mere thought of lifting a hammer were too painful. Thorin's eyes were guarded once more and we hadn't spoken of the night. I wasn't even sure it had really happened anymore. We slipped back into our roles as teacher and student and friends smoothly enough.

.

.

I had wanted him. Now I could feel his gaze on me as I downed the rest of the wine.

"I need you," I ground out in a whisper. I jumped as I realized I had said it out loud. Clamping my jaws shut, I hoped that Thorin hadn't heard. Cringing violently inside, I felt embarrassed enough to hop over the railing if it meant that I wouldn't have to explain the words I had accidentally let slip. I really needed to regulate my words.

"Is that the wine speaking?" Thorin's voice had a bit of an edge.

"Yes! I mean no! I haven't had much at all –just this –no! No that's not the wine speaking." Shit. "Yes, it is." I paused. "I was talking to the wine. Good bye, I am going to go to bed." I fled.