Night had fallen when Laurelin came back from the market. The moon was almost full, and its wan light guided the maid's steps as she walked through the narrow, cobbled streets of this new town. She was heading home – well, if the old wooden shack where they currently lived could be truly be called a 'home' – and she was enjoying the warmth of this pleasant night. The air full with the scent of flowers and cherry blossoms, while the crickets were singing loudly in the trees and bushes around her. They had been living here for several weeks now, enjoying a short rest from their endless wandering. A few weeks of quiet and stability, among men who were rather tolerant with Dwarves. This was as close to safety as they would ever get, Laurelin guessed.
The young servant had stayed out late, because she knew the last hours were the best moment to find good opportunities on the market, when the sellers are eager to get rid of what they hadn't sold during the day. She had found a few treasures, at a good price : dried black chanterelles to liven up the meat, a bottle of preserved pears, a small wheel of cheese, a bag of rye flour, and a few slices of dried beef, a meat they could not afford very often. As well as a few spices, too. She was quite proud of herself, and eager to prepare Thorin a good meal as soon as she would be back home. In her impatience, she decided to take the shortest road, the one that led past the sandstone quarry Thorin had forbidden her to take it, of course, and she didn't like the idea of disobeying him, but it would bring her back home – back to safety - more quickly than the other road. Besides, it was not that late, and there were still people out in the streets. No one would dare attack her with so many witnesses.
She felt a shiver of fear, though, when she saw a shadow move right next to her, then sighed in relief as she realized it was just a skinny, flea-covered feral dog.
She was barely two streets away from Thorin's home when two strong hands pushed her into a dark, narrow side-street. She fell on all fours into the mud, her heart hammering against her chest. Dwarves, she realized. Two Dwarves. One of them was very tall, with a shaggy pepper-and-salt beard and thick eyebrows, and his forearms covered in tattoos the second one was smaller, with dark red hair and a pointed face, and mean dark eyes. He was missing a finger on his left hand, too. They ripped Laurelin's basket out of her hands, and spilled its content on the ground. The bottle of preserved pears shattered into hundreds of tiny shards of glass.
« No ! » Laurelin shrieked, horrified. She didn't have enough money left to buy everything anew, and besides the stalls were now empty, the market closed. How would she explain to Thorin that there was nothing for dinner, tonight ? How could she come back home with empty hands ? And what would she say when he would realize she had disobeyed him by taking the forbidden road ?
One of the Dwarves – the nasty redhead – knelt in front of her, a mean smile on his lips. He looked at her the way a cat might look at a mouse, before devouring her. He sniggered when he saw the young maid so vulnerable on the ground, then he grabbed her chin with his four-fingered hand and forced her to look into his eyes.
« You're a pretty little dove, aren't you ? » His smile as he scrutinized her down from head to toe made Laurelin shiver. « Maybe we can come to an agreement, you and me... » He smiled widened, revealing a row of crooked white teeth. « If you accept to be nice with us, sweetie, we will let you pick up your things – or at least, what's left of them. »
He stepped on the pears, reducing them to a pulp, then he winked at his friend. The other one laughed loudly.
Laurelin was suddenly so terrified she couldn't talk, or move, or even think properly.
The tall Dwarf with tattooed arms grabbed her by the front of her dress and put her back on her feet, before closing his arms around her slender shape it felt like being hugged by a stinking bears. Laurelin tried to wriggle free of him, but he was strong as a bull. He tried to kiss her, but she turned her face away from him in disgust. Her reaction made him laugh even harder.
« Me first ! » the red-haired Dwarf bellowed, and he ripped her out the other one's arms again. He pushed her against the wall, so brutally he knocked the breath out of her lungs. The back of her head banged hard against the stone bricks. « You're a servant, sweetie, aren't you ? » he whispered into her ear, as he twisted her wrist to keep her from fighting back. « You're supposed to please your masters, aren't you ? Do everything they order you ? »
They both laughed once more, and tears filled Laurelin's eyes. She knew she was in a weak position. She had no chance against them. Panic rose in her. She opened her mouth to scream, but the red-haired Dwarf pulled a long skinning knife from his belt and put it against her throat.
« If you scream, you're dead. » he said sharply, and to prove he was not joking he pushed the point of the blade into her skin. A red droplet of blood appeared. He smiled, then he let the knife slide down to her cleavage, leaving an angry red line in its wake. « One word, Sweetie. One sound, and you will never see the light of the sun again. »
Laurelin was petrified with pain and fear. She was crying abundantly, now.
The tall one slipped between Laurelin and the wall, and both Dwarfes pressed their bodies against Laurelin's small, trembling shape. He grabbed her hair from behind, and with a short knife he started cutting away the lacing of her bodice. Laurelin felt the man's hot and disgusting breath on her neck.
As soon as the bodice was open, the redhead grabbed it and threw it on the ground. He was standing in front of her his hands and his fingers were running all over Laurelin's body, over her budding chest and her waist and her belly. His ugly lips kissed first her throat, then her breasts he didn't seem to care about the blood that was slowly oozing out of the wound. He didn't even seem to notice it anymore. He was a beast, no more than a beast. Then his hands brutally tore Laurelin's skirt into ribbons, to bare her lower body. He sniggered as he watched her, then his hands groped her hips, and buttocks, her thighs. They were eager and brutal, leaving red marks on her white skin.
Laurelin had no strengths left in her all she could do was say no, please, no, leave me alone. She pleaded and she begged, but every time she made a sound the red-haired weasel slapped her, or twisted one of her wrists, while the big one pressed himself against her from behind. If she had been given a choice, Laurelin would rather have died in Smaug's fire than be humiliated and belittled like that. Such a shame was a hundred times worse than death !
When she finally pushed away the redhead's maimed hand, in a surge of desperate energy, he hit her so hard she tumbled on the ground again. She couldn't stop crying. They would rape her, she knew it. More than once, probably. She wanted to scream, but who would hear her ? Who would come ? Certainly not those Humans who considered Dwarves like an inferior race. No one would face the knives of two angry male Dwarves just to help a mere serving girl.
Laurelin heard them talk as they were towering over her, but she couldn't understand their words anymore. Vaguely, she saw them remove their clothing, before tearing away what little was left of her poor old dress. She curled up into a tight ball, and closed her eyes as she resigned herself to what she knew was inevitable. They had already grabbed her thighs, and were trying to get rid of her underwear, when suddenly she perceived an unexpected sound – the hooves of galloping horses. And they seemed to be coming her way. Maybe... Could it be... She dared not to hope, yet she couldn't hep it. Maybe someone is coming to help me, after all !
The horses suddenly stopped, so close Laurelin could see their hooves through her tears. She heard shouts. The tall Dwarf who had assaulted her cursed as he jumped back on his feet to meet the newcomers, and the voice that answered him sounded vaguely familiar to Laurelin's ears but she was too shocked, too distressed to recognize it right now. She startled as she heard a sword being drawn from its scabbard, and fear seized her again, and she hid her face in her hands. She didn't want to see, or to hear, or even to feel... She just wanted to disappear into the ground, and die. Yet when several moments passed and no one touched her again, she found the courage to look up again everything was blurry from the tears in her big brown eyes, but she made out several silhouettes standing all around her, some of them still on their horses. Among them, she recognized... Thorin.
Is it truly him, or do my eyes deceive me ?
She rubbed the tears away, and saw that she had not been mistaken. It was Thorin indeed, and felt relief wash over her. Maybe he would be good enough to make the two ugly Dwarves stop ? Laurelin watched him intently as he handed the reins of his pony to one of the other Dwarves who had come with him, while he held his sword Deathless against the chest of the tall Dwarf with the shaggy dark beard. Thorin looked utterly furious. Obviously, he was ready to use his sword, if need be. Behind him, three other Dwarf warriors, still on their ponies. Laurelin may have recognized them, if she had not been so distressed – but the fierce expression on their faces made it clear they were ready to jump into battle if one of the two miscreants would even so much as threaten Thorin.
Both assailants were now standing with their backs against the wall. The redhead's forehead was swollen and bleeding abundantly, and the tall one sported a big cut on his tattooed forearm Thorin had obviously given him a taste of Deathless.
Thorin gestured at one of his warriors.
« Tie them up, and lock them in Horhaìn's cellar. » he ordered sternly.
« It will be done, Prince Thorin, » the man replied dutifully. He dismounted, and pulled a rope out of his saddlebags.
« I will deal with them tomorrow, once I have decided what to do with such a pair of filthy beasts. »
The other man nodded briefly.
Thorin sheathed his sword again, then he knelt at Laurelin's side. He wrapped her in his cloak, to cover her nudity and grant her some dignity. He studied her briefly to check on her wounds he saw her bruises and her scratches, and the red line that went from her throat to her breasts. One of her lips was split open, too. Probably when the red-haired Dwarf had slapped her.
Laurelin turned her back on him, wincing and whimpering at the pain. She didn't want him to see her like that, so ashamed and humiliated. Her shoulders were shaken by violent sobs as she wrapped Thorin's cloak tightly around her.
After a few moments, she managed to get on her feet. With the rags of her dress, she cleaned the blood on her chest.
« Your wounds need to be tended to. » Thorin said, looking sincerely concerned and worried. « I'm going to take you home. »
She was shaking on her unsteady legs, but when Thorin tried to steady her she refused his aid. The touch of his fingers on her skin would have been unbearable, so shortly after the attack. Even his mere presence at her side was unbearable. She was so ashamed of herself had Thorin not forbidden her to take this road ? Had he not warned her ? But she hadn't listened, and now she had paid the price for her foolishness. She was dirty, bloody, and the food she had so lovingly bought for Thorin was scattered on the ground. Of course, the Prince had not rebuked her, openly so far, but his presence was a constant reminder of how stupid she had been. And he's seen me lying on the ground, sobbing and half naked in the hands of those two monsters. He heard me beg. This idea was sickening, and she suddenly felt like throwing up. I will choke on my shame, and die of it. Yes, die of it. It will be easier than to keep living this life.
Yet on the other side, another part of herself felt reassured by the presence of the man who had just saved her Thorin was not only a Prince, but also a fierce and mighty warrior, and she knew no one would try to harm her while she was standing next to him. So in the end she allowed him to help her, and to put his hand on her arm to keep her on her feet, and she suddenly felt very strange as he touched her... for the very first time.
She tried to pick up the goods, but they were scattered in the dirt, now. The bag of flour had exploded, spilling its content on the cobbles, and the slabs of meat were now lying in a murky puddle, as well as the cheese and the dried mushrooms. There was nothing Laurelin could save. Nothing. New tears welled up in her eyes she tried to hide them by looking away from Thorin, into the opposite direction, but she soon realized it would not be enough - Thorin was not fooled by her pitiful attempts to keep some dignity. She pulled his cloak even tighter around her body, as if it were an armor that could protect her from all the evil things.
« Thank you for the cloak. » she muttered in a hoarse, feeble voice.
« You're welcome. » he answered kindly, which made her tear up again.
When they reached Laurelin's home, her grand-mother's eyes opened wide in shock when she saw the blood on the young maid. Thorin explained quickly what had happened, then the old woman took her grand-daughter in charge. She led her to the bed, and Laurelin docilely slipped under her blankets. She had no strengths left to defy anyone. Shortly thereafter, Thorin was back with the healer Oin, who opened his little chest full of medicines and unguents.
When the healer was done, Laurelin felt a bit better. Her wounds were now clean, and Oin had given her something to dull the pain. Her grand-mother was here, and soon the Lady Dis joined them as well.
« Thorin thought that maybe the company of another woman would cheer you up. » she said softly, and there was genuine concern in her eyes. She took Laurelin's hand in her own, but the young maid was so weak she could do no more than squeeze Dis' hand in response. Everything was blurry around her, so confused it was as if the other people around her were far away, in another world. She still felt those rough hands groping her, hitting her, hurting her... Fear turned her stomach into a tight knot of pain. Would she ever be able to forget this ?
When the Lady Dis left, Laurelin was left alone with her grand-mother. The old woman was horified, but full of sympathy for her sweet beloved grand-daughter. She prepared a kettle of hot herb tea, but Laurelin refused. She was sure she would not be able to bring anythong down her throat.
« Drink. » the old woman insisted.
Laurelin sighed, and drank – because obeying was easier than battling aginst her grand-mother. She recognized the very distinct taste of Carmely Leaf, mixed with verbena and camomile. For a fleeting moment, as she breathed in the scent, she felt like she was back in Erebor, safe, surrounded by her loving family, who had always watched over her.
Then it was all gone, and she had to face the bitter reality again.
« I wish I was gone. » she said weakly. « With Mother and Father. I wish I had died with them, when Smaug unleashed his fire on Erebor. » She felt herself drown in a bottomless sea of despair as the pain of losing her parents woke up again, as sharp as on the very first day. She missed them so much.
« Don't say things like that. » her grand-mother rebuked her in a gentle voice. « You've just been through something terrible, but you are young and resourceful. You will come through, sweetheart. »
« But why should I ? » Laurelin asked. Then, before her grand-mother could say anything, she continued. « What's the point of going on ? What's the point of living, if life bring only pain and suffering ? I am just... I just feel so... » She paused, and sighed again. « Nothing. » she said finally, because it was impossible for her to explain it with words when she couldn't even really understand what she was feeling herself.
« After what's happened to you tonight, it is natural for you to be distressed, and shaken. But don't worry. You will feel better soon. » She smiled. « Drink, now. »
Laurelin nodded and forced a smile on her lips, but deep down she knew her grand-mother was wrong... I will never feel better again, never... Everything was just so confused in her head... So messy... After a few gulps of tea, though, the Carmely Leaf started to be effective. It was a powerful sleeping draught. Laurelin felt her eyes close themselves. She didn't fight. She was relieved, actually, to be able to slumber into the oblivion of sleep, even if only for a few hours.
As Thorin stood in front of the two Dwarves who had assaulted Laurelin, he remembered everything. He had been coming home from a trip to Oxenvale, with three of his most loyal warriors, when he had heard the shouts at first he had thought it was some quarrel between the two Dwarves, and he had decided he was too weary to intervene, but then he had heard the screams and the pleas of a woman. Only then had he understood what was really happening. Anger had flared in him, making him forget his weariness. He had kicked his pony's ribs so hard the little beast had burst into a swift gallop, and by the time he had reached the two brutes he had pulled his sword out. The other Dwarves had followed him, of course, giving them a clear advantage. One of the criminals, a mean Dwarf with a wild red beard and a missing finger on his left hand, had tried to flee, but one of Thorin's men had intercepted him and thrown him on the ground. His head had hit the hard cobbles of the road, and for a moment he had been so still everybody had thought he was dead. The second man, much taller – actually almost as tall as Thorin himself – had tried to fight back Thorin with a long sharp skinning knife, but he had neither the skill nor the strength to be a real threat for the young Prince. Soon they had both been under control, and Thorin had ordered his men to bind their hands, and to lock them in some dark cellar for the night.
Then he had knelt beside the victim... and he had recognized Laurelin. She didn't look like the sweet, proper little maid that worked for him anymore she was bloody and sobbing, filthy and disheveled, her clothes in ribbons around her half-naked body, but there was no doubt it was Laurelin. It had been such a shock, to him, that he had frozen on the spot, as if his very blood had turned into ice.
Laurelin.
What had they done to her ?
She was bruised and battered, and there was a long bloody line going from her throat to breasts, probably made by skinning knife. He had been horrified by what they had done to her – such a sweet, devoted, gentle young woman. How could anyone want to hurt her ? How, for Mahal's sake ? How evil and twisted must you be, to do something like that ? And they would have done even worse, Thorin was sure, if he had not come to her help. They would have used her, and once they were done with her they would have discarded her like an old rag – or maybe even killed her. Thorin didn't even want to think about that. He had covered her with his own cloak, before helping her to walk home, but the shame and hurt in her eyes had made him cringe. He had wondered if she would ever recover, or if this would haunt her for the rest of her life.
And now he was standing in front of those ugly criminals, and he felt himself boiling with black anger. He was furious not only against them, but also against himself. They had been with him from the very first day, when Smaug had destroyed everything Thorin had talked with them, even eaten with them on occasions, after a particularly good hunt. Yet he had not been able to see who they truly were. He had not realized what beasts were hiding behind their eyes. He had seen nothing, and now Laurelin had paid the price for his own mistakes. He would have loved nothing more than to kill them both – right here, right there , in the dark cellar, to make them pay for Laurelin's blood and tears... Her shame... She had said nothing, she had not complained, but Thorin had seen the shame in her teary eyes. The way she had looked away from him... They was she had tensed up when he had tried to help her...
Calm down, he ordered himself. Remember what Father always says. A king must rule with his reason, not with his passions. If you let your feeling get the upper hand on your reason, you will take decisions you might regret later.
Thorin's eyes stared at the two criminals.
« The dragon stole our mountain and our treasures. » he said sternly, trying to look impassive. « The Elves refused to help us. The Dwarves of the Iron Hills won't assist us either. And the men despise us. We are alone. We are on our own. We can count only on ourselves. Don't you think that life's hard enough as it is ? Why do you need to make everything even worse by acting like beasts ? » He had talked in a deep and threatening tone, very slowly, without raising his voice - but he had spat the last word at them with anger, as if it were poison. « We need to help each other, and not destroy each other by inflicting unnecessary pain. We are the folk of Durin, and we are proud and honorable Dwarves. We do not behave like monsters. » He paused to plunge his piercing eyes into those of the first man, then the second one. « You do not deserve to belong to our folk anymore. »
The cowardly redhead recoiled, and hit the wall behind him. But the tall one looked defiantly back at Thorin.
« We just wanted a lil' bit of fun after a hard day's work. » he said, in his growling voice. « Why do we have to make such a fuss about a lowborn lass ? She's just a nothing. »
Thorin unsheathed his sword, and put the tip on his blade to the Dwarf's throat. He felt a strong urge to push it into his throat.
« Lowborn or highborn doesn't matter. » he declared. « A person's worth is not determined by the amount of gold in her parent's pockets. » He thought about Laurelin, always there for him, always loyal, never asking anything back. The mere idea that someone could call her 'a nothing' was repulsing. « Besides, the young lady is in my service. She's working for me. She was under my protection. By affronting her, you are affronting me, too. »
The Dwarf sniggered loudly.
« In your service, my king ? » He bared his teeth in something that might have been an evil smile, but it made him look like a dog who's about to bite. « Oh, that's why you're so keen on defending her, aren't you ? You want her all for yourself, my Prince, am I right ? She must be quite something, in bed, for you to defend her like that ! »
He laughed again, but Thorin reacted as quick as a lightning bolt. His blade broke the skin of the other Dwarf's throat. A tiny droplet of red blood slid down the white skin of his throat, before being sucked in by the hem of his shirt.
« Keep your mouth shut, or I'll shut it for you. »
« Why else would a prince get so angry because of a worthless servant ? »
Obviously, the filthy dog had decided to play the game of provocation to the very end. Very well. Let him play. Let him spill his poison. I don't care.
Thorin would not react to his smutty assumptions. Only a foul mind could come up with such disgusting ideas.
« Our laws are very clear. » he continued, as if he hadn't heard what the man had just said. « Raising a hand on another Dwarf, and drawing his blood – for whatever reason – is a crime that will be... »
« We are not in Erebor anymore ! » the tall shaggy Dwarf interrupted him. Thorin had never seen such impudence. « Such laws have no reason to exist anymore ! We are in the wild, now ! It's every one for himself, now, and those who are unable to protect themselves do not deserve to live ! They slow us down and they eat up all the food ! They are weak and they will make us all weak, if we let them ! »
« It is not a matter of place, but a matter of honor. » Thorin said, his voice as sharp as a whip. « And you both have none. »
« So what are you going to do about it ? » the other one retorted. « Kill me ? » He spat on the ground, at Thorin's feet. « You're not even a prince anymore. »
In a flash of anger, Thorin hit him hard with the hilt of his sword. He fell on the ground, knocked out. His mean friend squeaked.
« Please, my lord Thorin ! » he begged. « I meant no harm ! I never wanted to hurt her ! It was him ! Only him ! He cut her open with his blade, and he hit her, but I didn't do it ! I didn't raise my hand on her ! I never hurt her ! »
It was obvious, to Thorin, that this was no more than a tissue of lies. The cowardly Dwarf would have said anything to avoid punishment.
« You tried to force yourself on her ! »
« N... not really. » he said. « I was sure she enjoyed it ! »
« She said no, and she cried, and she begged you to stop ! That is not my idea of 'enjoying' something ! »
« Please ! We didn't mean no harm ! »
« Enough ! » Thorin barked. He was getting tired of this. He wanted it to end. « As soon as you get out of here, you will be marked as a criminal, so that all the Dwarves you will meet in your future will know you for what you truly are. » The cross on his cheek, burned into his skin with red-hot iron, would make a pariah of him, in each and every kingdom of Dwarves, to the last of his days. Nothing would ever be able to wash the mark away. Nothing would ever be able to restore him to favor. It was no more than he deserved.
« No, please ! No, my lord Thorin ! Please ! »
Thorin towered over him, making him look even smaller than he was.
« Keep that ugly mouth of yours shut, or I will throw you in the gutters of this city, like your little friend over there. » Thorin nudged the unconscious Dwarf with the tip of his boot. « The thieves and the cut-throats will take care of him. He will never hurt any woman again, I swear it in Mahal's name. »
He walked away before the other Dwarf could add anything else. Then he walked out of the cellar he exchanged a few words with Dwalin and the three other Dwarves waiting outside, to tell them what they were to do with the prisoners, before climbing the stairs. He welcomed the light of the sun, outside, as well as the fresh breeze of wind on his face.
He decided to go and see Laurelin. She was not at her house, but Thorin was found her in his own house. It surprised him – why the hell was she not abed, to recover from her ordeal ? What was she doing here ? And her grandmother was there as well. She was the one who opened the door.
« Prince Thorin. » she said, bowing. « I tried to reason her. » she said apologetically. « I tried to convince her to go home and rest, but she refused. But maybe you will have more influence on her. She is so devoted to you... »
« How is she ? » he asked her gently.
The sad look on the old woman's face was eloquent enough. Thorin felt another pang of anger, immediately followed by pity as he saw her standing in the kitchen so dejectedly she was trying to prepare the meal, with fat tears running down her cheeks, and her eyes were as empty as if there was no soul behind them anymore. Her moves were slow, clumsy, uncoordinated. She was wearing a worn dress that was too long and too wide for her, and Thorin recognized it as coming from Dis' wardrobe. The young maid was no more than the shadow of her usual self. She startled when she heard Thorin's footsteps behind her, like a frightened mouse.
« Dinner will be ready soon. » she announced in a toneless voice, without looking at Thorin.
He watched her. He had never been in this situation. He couldn't even fully understand how, or what, she felt. He didn't know how to react in front of her pain.
« Would it not be better for you to rest ? » he asked, very softly, to be sure she would not take it as a rebuke. « You are wounded, and you need time to heal. Oin said... »
« I am fine. » she interrupted him in the same lifeless tone.
« No, you're not. Laurelin. You need to take care of yourself. »
« My job is to take care of you. And I lost... They threw everything into the mud, all the things I had bought for you – with your gold – and now... »
He grabbed her under the chin with two fingers, very softly, almost tenderly. He made her look up at him. She closed her eyes, and more tears welled up under her closed lids.
« I promise you that I will never let anyone hurt you again. » he vowed with genuine compassion, and he truly meant each of these words.
When Laurelin heard this unusual softness in Thorin's deep voice, she found the courage to open her eyes again, and to watch him for the first time since the attack. She was suddenly uncertain did he truly care for her ? Did she really matter, even if only a little, to this mighty prince ? She was frozen with doubt as she watched her own reflection in his blue eyes.
« I am... I'm nothing. » she whispered through her tight throat. « I am no more than a maid. There are so many others... better than me... more worthy than me... They... » Then she cringed, because talking was waking the pain of her cut lip. She felt the coppery taste of blood on her tongue. « I feel as if I were no more than a mere object... no better than this table, or this cooking pot... I'm just... »
She never finished that last sentence. It was too much. She just resumed her cooking, and looked away from Thorin again. I shouldn't tell him all theses things. He's a prince. He's got better things to do than listening to my whining.
« Laurelin... »
There was such a deep sadness in his voice, as he called out her name, that Laurelin forgot – for a brief moment – about anything else.
She was about to say something, when someone knocked at the door. When her grand-mother had opened it, she heard Balin's polite voice coming in from outside.
« I'll be right back. » Thorin told her, looking stricken. It was obvious he didn't want to leave her right now, but he left her anyways. He was a Prince, and he could not refuse his advice or his help to the other Dwarves who needed him.
She was suddenly alone again in the kitchen. Since the stew was ready, she put it off the fire, and onto the table. Thorin was still talking with the white-haired Dwarf, so she went to the living room and sat in front of the fireplace, her back against the pile of wood, on the old sheepskin they used as a saddle pad when they were traveling with the ponies. She was exhausted, but also terribly afraid to fall asleep and to have nightmares, as she did the night before, right after the attack. She grabbed Thorin's cloak, and wrapped it tightly around her it still smelled of him, and it made her feel safe. He was, after all, the man who had saved her from these brutes. And the knowledge that Thorin would soon be back into the house, so close to her, was a very pleasant thought as well. Maybe it would even be sufficient to keep the bad dreams at bay.
When Thorin closed the door behind Balin and Laurelin's grand-mother, who needed to go home, he saw Laurelin sitting there in front of the fire, her face bathed by the dancing light of the flames. He smiled at her, and the young maid was grateful for that smile. Something nice and good before facing the terrors of the night.
« Your meal is ready, Prince Thorin. » she said, feeling a bit better than she had before.
He nodded slowly, then he went to sit at the old oaken table, where the food was waiting for him. Wrinkled and shriveled potatoes from last year, some bits of pork meat from yesterday, and small loaf of bread. Since everything she had bought for Thorin had been squandered, she had taken food from her own pantry to prepare his meal, and she had paid to bake the bread in the baker's oven with her own money. She had left enough to feed her grand-mother, but Laurelin herself had eaten nothing.
Thorin started to eat, and Laurelin relished the sounds of his fork against the earthen bowl. It was familiar. It meant safety.
But barely a few moments later, he got up again. Surprised, Laurelin looked up at him.
« Prince Thorin, is there a problem ? »
« Yes, there is. » he admitted. He walked over to the fireplace, and put the bowl in Laurelin's hands. « You have more need of this than me. »
« No. » she said. « I can't accept. I made it for you. »
« I am your prince, and you are my maid. You are supposed to do everything I order you, are you not ? »
« Y... Yes, Prince Thorin. I am. »
« Good. » he smiled. « Because I order you to eat, and to finish his bowl, and to put yourself first for a few days. Can you do that ? »
She was so surprised by this unexpected demand that she was at a loss for words. She stared at him wide-eyed as he walked to his bedchamber. The bowl was hot in her cold hands, and the smell of food suddenly made her realize she was hungry indeed.
Two hours later, Thorin was sitting at the table, reading the letter Balin had given him earlier. It came from his father. He was still in the Iron Hills, and would probably stay there for a few more weeks. Thorin wasn't surprised Dwarves were stubborn and often churlish when it came to parting with their gold, and trying to wring even a handful of coppers out of them was always delicate. Thror and Thrain would need time to convince the Iron Hills to give them what they so desperately needed.
While he was reading, he also watched Laurelin from the corner of his eyes. The young maid was still sitting at the same place, next to the fire, but at least she had eaten. Thorin's stomach was grumbling, but he was still convinced the food was better in her belly than in his own. She had just been through a horrifying ordeal, she needed strengths.
When the night grew late, Thorin felt his eyes prickle with sleep. He watched Laurelin, who hadn't moved at all and was still sitting with her back against the pile of wood. Her eyes were half closed. She was probably eager to go to bed and sleep, too, but too terrified to go out alone, at night, after what had happened. Thorin felt a new wave of pity for her.
« Laurelin, do you want me to walk you home ? » he asked in a soft voice.
She startled when she heard him talk.
« Prince Thorin ? I'm sorry, but... Did you say something ? »
« Do you want me to walk you home ? » he repeated patiently.
« I don't want to bother you, Prince Thorin. » she replied in a sleepy voice.
« It doesn't bother me. »he assured her, his a kind and caring voice.
She hesitated, then she got up at last. She was still wrapped in his cloak. Thorin found it amusing that she had chosen one of his own garments to cover herself with a blanket would have been more convenient, but obviously she was content with the cloak. He didn't even try to understand why. Women were strange creatures – his sister Dis had proven it numerous times – but anyways he felt oddly pleased as he watched Laurelin. She looked small and frail, underneath that thick, heavy cloak. Almost like a child. More than ever, he wanted to protect her. To keep harm away from her.
« Let's go ? » he suggested.
She nodded, but Thorin felt her reluctance.
« Is there a problem ? » he asked, worried. « You... I understand you are afraid to go out, but I am here now. And no one will hurt you, Laurelin. »
She blushed, and her eyes suddenly shone with something he couldn't quite determine – tears ? Emotion ? Fear ?
« It's... it's nothing. » she stuttered weakly.
Thorin felt the urge to put an arm around her shoulders, as he would have done with sister if he had seen her distressed, or to comfort a crying child - but he refrained himself. After what those two brutes had inflicted her, she would probably be frightened by the touch of any man, and the last thing he wanted was to make her even more uncomfortable.
« Prince Thorin, I... Could I... » She blushed again, and lowered her eyes as if she had suddenly found something very interesting on the ground. « Could I stay here, maybe ? » she said at last.
Thorin was not sure he had heard correctly.
But she insisted.
« I feel safe, here... It's just... I feel safe... with you... I feel safe when I know you are close... »
She was still looking at her feet.
Thorin, puzzled, didn't know what to answer. This was so unexpected. So bizarre.
« I see no reason why you couldn't stay, if this is really your wish. » he answered at last, in an uncertain voice.
« Thank you. » she said gratefully « Thank you, Prince Thorin. »
For the first time since the attack, Thorin saw life shining in her brown doe-eyes.
She returned on her old sheepskin at once, and sighed in relief as she settled comfortably there, in the warmth of the hearth, wrapped in Thorin's heavy cloak. She needed no more than that to be contented. She closed her eyes, as if to better enjoy the peace of quiet of this moment. Thorin watched her in silence for a while, to be sure she was fine, then he went to bed after wishing her a good night.
She is stronger than she looks, Thorin realized. She is down, she is hurt, but she will get up again, eventually. They didn't break her.