Laurelin was here, with him. For a moment, he wondered how this miracle was possible – how did she come here from the Blue Mountains ? How did she find him, lost as he was in the wilderness ? But then she leaned over him, and he forgot all about his silly questions. He was overwhelmed by her presence, her smile, her beauty. He wanted to get lost in her big, brown eyes.
« Laurelin... » He whispered, his voice as hoarse as if there was sand in his throat.
She didn't answer. She just smiled, and then she leaned closer and kissed him on the lips, very softly, very tenderly. To Thorin, it was just as intense as if he had been struck by a lightning bolt every inch of his skin was electrified.
Then Laurelin's voice rose, talking in khuzdhûl.
« You promised me you would come back. » She said. « Don't break this promise. »
Then she smiled at him again, and the tip of her fingers brushed Thorin's cheek. Her touch brought him back to consciousness, and suddenly Thorin saw Gandal's wrinkled and bearded face looming over him.
No ! He wanted to scream. No, I want Laurelin !
But no word came out of his sore throat, and for a while he could do nothing but stare back at Gandalf in silence, hurt and confused and utterly disappointed. Exhaustion washed over him, as well as pain from all his wounds. Desperate, he clung to his dream and to the marvelous sensations Laurelin had woken in him, even if it had not been real. He didn't want to forget any of it.
When Thorin had recovered a bit, he got up again, but his legs were shaky and his mind still troubled. Laurelin's presence had not been real, yet he could still remember the smell of her hair, or the brightness of her smile, as clearly as if it had been real. Her words rang in his head, making him more determined than ever to fulfill it. And the kiss... that wonderful kiss... it kept haunting him, and he would forever cherish it like one of the best moments of his life. Instincively, he slipped his fingers into his pocket, to touch Laurelin's necklace there.
« I will come back to you, Laurelin. » he whispered solemnly, in such a low voice that no one could hear it.
Then he saw Bilbo, and suddenly he remembered what had happened just before he had passed out. A tiny Hobbit with a tiny swords, against the might and fury of Azog. How come Bilbo was still alive ? He should be dead, by now. Dead from Azog's hands, like so many others before him. Then, slowly, all the rest came back to him. They were all safe, in a place Thorin couldn't remember. What had happened ? Who saved them ?
He closed his eyes for a while, in a desperate attempt to clear his mind. The pain rom his wounds didn't make it any easier ton think and to concentrate.
Then he watched Bilbo again. There was worry in his eyes, and hope – and admiration, too. Somehow it touched Thorin more deeply than he would have expected. He considered the small Hobbit for a long time, scrutinizing him as if he saw him for the first time there was more in him that the awkward, clumsy creature Thorin had thought he was, in the beginning. He could be brave, when he needed to. Brave enough to face a monster.
And he didn't even need to. Thorin remembered. He could have stayed in his tree, far from Azog. But he didn't. He ran straight into the arms of the enemy – for me. To try and save the life of the old Dwarf King who had given him none but scorn and disdain.
Somehow, it made Thorin feel both grateful and angry. He had never asked such a sacifice from any of his companions, even less from the one who was supposed to be the weakest of them all. He had never asked for anyone to die for him.
« You nearly got yourself killed. » He grumbled, looking Bilbo straight in the eyes. He wanted to thank him, yet he didn't exactly know how. For a hardened man like Thorin, it was not easy to show relief or gratefulness he did his best, yet somehow he was still frustrated because of his dream, and his words came out harsher as expected. They came out all wrong, expressing anger instead of gratitude. He saw the look of confusion – or maybe hurt ? - on the Hobbit's face, and decided to say no more. He took a deep breath. « I've never been so wrong in my life. » He said truthfully, hoping it would be eanough to ease the Hobbit's obvious distress.
And then he hugged him – without thinking, without even knowing why. Maybe because his dream of Laurelin had left him a bit giddy, craving for the touch of a friend. He needed the comfort of human warmth to make him feel better.
He didn't even care anymore about all the other Dwarves watching him.
He closed his eyes, and remembered Laurelin's smile.
One day, I will hug her like that again, and then she will stay in my arms forever.
Even though the eagles had saved them, the respite didn't last long. This defeat didn't stop Azog and his dreadful Orcs they roamed the wildlands day and night, searching for their prey on their huge, stiniking wargs. More than once, Thorin and his company barely just escaped them. They were exhausted from having to take so many precautions all the time. They knew that if they wanted to reach Erebor before Durin's day they would have to hurry, yet they couldn't walk as fast as they wanted to because of the Orcs. It was terribly frustrating.
A few days later, Gandalf led them all to Beorn's home, where they could eat and rest and recover. Beorn had no love for Dwarves, but he tolerated them and offered them his hospitality nonetheless, and for a few days they knew evil would not be able to reach them. It was during this moment of respite that Thorin remembered Laurelin's birthday it would come soon, in a few weeks. When he had left the Blue Mountains he had hoped his quest would be finished at the time of her birthday, but obviously nothing had gone as planned. He regretted he wouldn't be at her side for this special day, and then he decided to offer her something at least - even if he had no idea what, or how he would send it to her.
After a good night of rest at Beorn's, the skinchanger gave them ponies and they rode till they reached the border of Mirkwood. The forest looked old and threatening, and the idea of entering it sent a chill down Thorin's back – yet there was no choice, as Gandalf told Bilbo. It was either this, or losing weeks (or even months) by walking around the forest. And they could definitely not afford to lose so much time. They had to cross Mirkwood. But the days that followed were amongs the worst Thorin had ever known he had never felt so confused, so dizzy, as if he had drunk too much wine – or as if he was breathing poisoned air. His companion's voices sounded distant and muffled, whereas his own voice echoes loudly in his head. His moves were slow and awkward, and his eyes kept showing him things that did'nt exist, shadows that moved beneath the trees all around him – but whenever he tried to have a closer look, there was nothing. And that's how they lost the road, in spite of Gandalf's repeated warnings. They started wandering aimlessly thought the forest, and soon they were completely lost.
Then came the painful encounter with the Spiders – why did this world have to be populated by so many evil creatures ? - closely followed by their first meeting with the Elves. Thorin knew them. They were Thranduil's Elves. His hands clenched into fists as he remembered the elven King as he had last seen him : turning his back on the dying Dwarves. A selfish, arrogant little princeling of the forest. Thorin glared at them all, those tall slender creatures with such high opinions of themselves. They think they're better than us, but under the pretty looks they are as foul as a rotten apple. Thorin relfected as he looked up at the blond Elf who stood in front of him.
The following night was one of the longest of his life they were emprisoned in the deep dungeons where no light from the sun ever shone, in the darkness of damp underground cells. No one had ever escaped from this place before, and Thorin knew it would have been useless to try. Maybe he should have accepted to negociate with Thranduil, as Balin had suggested – but the very idea of talking with the elven king was making Thorin sick with disgust. He would not negociate with Thranduil. Never. And Laurelin's kept hauting him, too, as he sat in a dark corner what would happen to her ? Would she wait for him over there, in the Blue Mountains, while he rotted here in Thranduil's dungeons ? Would she think Thorin is dead ? Would she mourn him ? Would she forget him and turno to another man ? Would one of the warriors he had left in the Blue Mountains try to find them ? Would Dain do something, maybe ? So many questions, and no answers. Thorin had never been so angry, so frustrated. His hate for Thranduil just reached a new peak, putting the elven king at the same level than Azog or Smaug.
And then, as they all started to despair, salvation came from where they least expected it : from Bilbo. He appeared out of nowhere with the keys in his hands. Thorin stared at him for a moment, wondering whether it was real or not – how could this be possible ? Did the Hobbit use some kind of magic ? Or was he simply much leverer than the Elves ?
Anyways, Bilbo did not only open the gates of their cells, but he also found a way out of Thrnaduil's halls. Thorin wondered if this Bilbo was truly the same Hobbit as the one they had met in Hobbiton the soft awkward creature had disappeared, replaced by a brave, audacious and stelthy little burglar. Gandalf had been right about him. The slipped each into a barrel – which was not an easy task for Bombur – and then they floated down the river of course the Elves noticed almost at once that they had escaped, and the Orcs had come as well, and what had been planned as a discreet escape turned into a wild run for their lives. The worst moment, for Thorin, was when he heard Fili scream his brother's name since he could not see anything, he had feared – for a fleeting moment – that his nephew was dead. This thought was terrifying. Kili, little Kili with his cheeky smile and his laughing eyes. He could not be dead. Mahal would not allow it. And then he had understood the young Dwarf had been shot in the leg, and a powerful wave of relief had engulfed him.
He's hurt, but he'll survive. Thank Mahal, he'll survive.
But they had been close, too close to death one more time. And Thorin was not stupid if they kept putting their lives in jeopardy like that, then one day or another one of Dwarves would not make it. They had been lucky so far, but luck was not a reliable ally. It could not be trusted. It could abandon them any moment.
And we have not even reached the dragon yet.
A few moments later, they all gathered their coins on the riverbank, to pay the bargeman called Bard. Most of them had not much money left, and Thorin felt guilty for spending the silver Laurelin had sent him. If ever their quest was successful, they would owe it to her as well, for without this money they wouldn't have been able to enter LakeTown at all. Thank you, Laurelin... Thorin reflected. Thank you so much. He just hoped she didn't lack anything, at home. The idea of spending money that she could have need of made him very uneasy, but on the other hand they had no choice. It was either this, or being stuck here in their underclothes, with Kili grunting in pain and Orcs on their heels.
Several hours later, they were dry and clean again, and wearing over-sized clothes that made them look a bit ridiculous. But at least they were warm and comfortable. A few hours laters, as they were sitting in Bard's house with his children, waiting for Bard to return with the promised weapons, Remembering Laurelin's birthday, Thorin slipped his hand into his pocket and grabbed the small piece of would he had picked up at Beorn's house. It was nothing remarkable, but Thorin like the dark, warm colour of thz wood, as well as the beautiful lines on it. While Fili was taking care of his wounded remembered brother, Thorin sat into corner and pulled out his small pocket knife for a while, he didn't know what to carve into the wood, and then he remembered Laurelin's love for the edelweiss flowers that grew in the Blue Mountains. Small and resistant flowers, growing on almost bare rocks, yet at the same time so beautiful. He smiled, and put the blade of his knife against the wood, trying to imagine what she would think of it when she would get it. Of course it was a very humble gift, not worthy of her – but at the moment he could afford no more.
I'll offer her a more splendid gift once we are in Erebor. He promised himself.
As he worked on the small piece of wood, he missed Laurelin more than ever, and the idea that he would not be at her side on her birthday made him very sad. The young woman had no family whe would ba all alone, surrounded by the empty walls of the house, instead of laughing and smiling as she deserved.
He was almost finished when suddenly he heard small steps coming closer to him. He looked up, and saw Bilbo. The Hobbit apologized and was about to walk away, when suddenly he spotted the tiny pendant Thorin was carving. A look of surprise reflected on his face obviously, the Hobbit had not expected to see Thorin doing something like that.
« I'm... I'm sorry. » He repeated. « I didn't mean to intrude, so... »
Thorin almost let him walk away, then he remembered everything Bilbo had done for him, lately. If not for him, they would all still be Thranduil's captives. Thorin owed him a bit of time, if that's what the Hobbit wanted.
« You're not intruding, Master Burglar. » He said, putting his work aside and looking at the Hobbit. « You wanted to talk to me ? »
« Oh no no, I just... well... » Bilbo stuttered. « I wasn't looking for you specifically, but the house isn't that big and... » He cleared his throat, looking embarrassed. « I don't want to keep you from... your work. » He added, pointing at the unfinished necklace with his chin.
« You've shown great courage, of late. » Thorin told him unexpectedly. He had spent years in Laurelin's company without telling her how he truly felt – or maybe it was because he himself had not been conscious of his feelings ? - but anyways he would not make that mistake twice. He would not let Bilbo walk away from him without telling him the truth. « You surprised me, Master Burglar. The first time I saw you, I was sure you would not last more than a few days in the wilds. And now... » He smiled. « We're all alive thanks to you. »
We're Dwarves and we're hardened warrior and we've been through so much hardship, yet it's thanks to a tiny, shy Hobbit that we are still alive. It hurt his pride to admit, and he couldn't bring himself to say it aloud.
Bilbo made a strange noise, something between a nervous giggle and a grumbling.
« It's nothing. » hH mumbled, his cheeks turning a violent shade of red. « It's normal. I... We... » He didn't know how to continue, so he just fidgeted the hem of his oversized shirt. Men-sized clothes were too large even for the Dwarves, but one could have fit two or three Hobbits like Bilbo into one of Bard's shirts.
« Thank you. » Thorin said, very honestly. « Thank you for everything. »
Bilbo nodded uncomfortably. Then his eyes went on the necklace again.
« It is pretty. » he said nervously, eager to change subject. « I didn't know you had telent in wood-carving. »
« I'm not very talented. » Thorin admitted. The flower had not turned out as beautiful ad he had hoped it would.
« Is... is this a flower growing in Erebor ? » He asked, and his curiosity seemed to be genuine. Thorin remembered that Hobbits loved farming and growing things flowers were obviously a subject that Bilbo was more comfortble discussing.
« No, not Erebor. » Thorin said sadly. « It grows in the Blue Mountains, where we have settled after our homeland fell into Smaug's claws. It's a very rare flower. It grows high in the mountains, and rumour says it brings luck to see them. »
Bilbo had noticed the sadness that filled Thorin's eyes as he had said the word Erebor.
« Soon you will be home again. » He said. « The Mountain is not far, now. We can see almost see it from this window. »
« Not far, no, but still guarded by a dragon. »
Thorin sighed loudly. Bilbo went to sit next to him. He touched the necklace with the tip of his fingers, very lightly.
« Is it... Is it for somebody special ? » He asked.
Thorin didn't know where the Hobbit had found the courage to ask him such a personal question – when not even friends like Balin or Dwalin came to talk to him about it – yet somehow it didn't bother Thorin. The prospect of talking about Laurelin even lifted his spirits a bit.
« Somebody very special. » He said with a warm smile, as the young woman's picture bubbled up in his mind. He wondered what she was doing at the moment, then his attention came back on Bilbo. « Somebody who is very dear to me. She has done so much for me over the course of the years. She made my life so much better. And soon it will be her birthday. I can't be there for her, this year, and I can't even buy her a present worthy of her, but I want her to know that she's in my thoughts all the time. »
Bilbo had never seen this she-dwarf – yet he only had to look at Thorin, and at the sadness in his eyes, to realize how much the woman counted for him, and how much he missed her.
« Is she... Is she waiting for you, then ? » Bilbo asked.
« Yes. » Thorin said, but suddenly doubt filled his mind. He had been gone for more than eight months now, and Laurelin was alone at home, with no one to keep her company. What if she had decided to look for a companion, during Thorin's absence ? Somebody who would not abandon her every now and then, as Thorin had done lately ? The thought was frightening. The thought was unbearable. « Yes, she's waiting at home. » He added, almost angrily, more to convince himself than to convince Bilbo.
Deep down, Thorin knew that Laurelin might not share the feelings he was having for her, but he didn't want to dwell on this possibility right now. It was so much easier – and more pleasant – to cling to distant hopes and to imagine tender moments alone together, once Erebor would be in their hands again.
Bilbo nodded, and a strange smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.
« You are lucky, then, if there is somebody of... of such importance waiting for you. » He said, grabbing the necklace and holding it up at eye level to have a closer look. « It is very beautiful. » He said, as the light fell on the tiny wooden edelweiss. « Is she... The woman who will wear this, I mean – is she a beautiful Dwarven princess ? » he asked a bit awkwardly.
Thorin being such a handsome, majestic prince... Bilbo couldn't imagine him being with any other woman than a princess covered in jewels.
Thorin chuckled softly.
« A princess ? » He mused. « No, she's not. » He hesitated for a few moments, then he decided to be honest with Biblo. « When I first saw her, she was no more than a dishevelled, bedraggled survivor, her face still covered in soot. She was one of the servants of Erebor. She became my maid. » Thorin felt a wave of shame and guilt as he remembered their first meeting, and how he had reacted to Laurelin's plea for work. If not for Dis, he would have shoved her away like an annoying gnat. « She worked for me – cooking, and cleaning my house, and washing my clothes. But soon she became much more than that. She... » He sighed, feeling suddenly very nostalgic. He wanted her to be at his side so badly. « Her kindness, her devotion, her smile... She was always there for me – always. Even when I didn't deserve to be taken care of like that. There were days it must have been hard for her to put up with my stubborness, but she stayed at my side no matter what... And soon I came to realize that my whole life would have been empty and sad, without her. With every passing day, our bond grew stronger and stronger, till our lives became so intertwined that one could not live without the other anymore. » Talking about Laurelin had helped him drop his walls, and Thorin was surpised to see how easy it was to talk with Bilbo. Maybe the fact that he didn't know Laurelin had helped, too.
« I... I am happy for you. » Bilbo said with a sincere smile. « You must be impatient to see her again. »
« Yes, I am. » Thorin admitted. « Yet at the same time I am afraid. When I left the Blue Mountains, we were friends. Just friends. She shared my daily life for so many years, yet I never recognized my true feelings for her. I never... I never realized I loved her, until she was far away and out of reach. »
It was the first time Thorin had litterally used the word 'love' to describe his feelings towards Laurelin, and it made him feel alated, as if sombody had taken a great weight off his chest.
« And now you don't know is she shares this love ? » Bilbo guessed in a very soft voice, putting the necklace into Thorin's hand.
Thorin nodded as he closed his fingers around the wooden jewel.
« If she doesn't, it will break me. » He admitted.
« I am sure she does. » Bilbo said with conviction.
« How could you know ? You have never even seen her. »
Because it's impossible to not love you, he wanted to say, but of course he kept the words to himself. Instead, he just chuckled a bit uncomfortably.
« So let's kill this dragon as soon as possible, for I am very eager now to meet this lady you talk so highly about. » He joked, to lighten the mood.
He jumped on his feet and walked away, and Thorin forgot about Laurelin for a while as he helped Fili to take care of Kili's injury. It was an ugly wound, that would take time to heal. It broke Thorin's heart to see Kili in such pain.
He shouldn't be here. Thorin realized. Who am I to lead my own kin into such danger ? I should have refused him when he asked to come with us !
Yet when evening came and darkness fell on LakeTown, Laurelin was on his mind again. Talking about her with Bilbo had stirred a lot of hopes and memories in his head he was craving for her touch, her presence, like never before. He wanted her at her side so badly. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine her lying here at side – sometimes this trick was enough to soothe him – yet tonight it was not enough. He needed something real, and couldn't have it. And the frustration of being denied the only thing he truly wanted led him to more bitter thoughts : What if Laurelin was married with another man ? What if she had been tired of waiting for Thorin ? What if she had never felt anything for Thorin, except friendship ? These thoughts were unbearable. If Laurelin were married to another man, Thorin would ne eve be able to consider it like a real marriage – because in his heart, Laurelin belonged to him and no one else. Of course he was not yet sure the young woman shared his feelings, but he couldn't even bring himself to think about the possibility that Laurelin may choose another one.
Later that night they escaped Bard's house, just to be caught by the city guards as they had tried to steal some weapons from the armoury. Luckily, Thorin's wordes were enough to sway the Master of LakeTown to their cause they were given weapons and ridiculous clothes, but thr Men cheered and applauded them. Thorin wrote a quick letter, in which he talked to Laurelin about everything they've been through lately, before wishing her a happy birthday. He also mentioned some some happy memories of the past, like the evenings when he had taught her to read, or the moments they used to spend together in the forge, or the games they used to play together at night, when all the work was finished. Then he sealed the letter and gave it to an elderly man with no family, who said he would be more than glad to bring it the the Blue Mountains in exchange of a coin or two. Thorin hoped the man would make it he seemed to be fit enough still, but the Blue Mountains were far away And he also hoped it would reach Laurelin before her birthday. It was very important to him that she gets her present on ber birthday.
He watched the old man enter into his house to prepare his journey, then the door closed behind him. Thorin sighed, and joined his companions to prepare for his own journey. Bofur was still missing, and Thorin was still struggling to finf the best way to tell Kili he would have to stay here. He didn't like the prospect of disappointing his younger nephew, but neither did he like the idea of Kili bleeding to death on the dorrstep of Erebor.
Then he looked at the Mountain, in the distance. The dragon's mountain, for now.
But we are coming, now, Smaug. We are coming, and everything will be ours once more, like it used to be in the past.