Chapter 12
"Nightmares and Late Night Picnics"
"This is Orchrist, the Goblin Cleaver, forged by the High Elves of the West… My kin. May it serve you well." Elrond stated as he handed Thorin's sword back to him. He then went on to talk about Gandalf's blade then when finished with that one, the prince held up the third.
"This is the one Torshar found… Do you know anything of it?"
Taking it into his hands, the lord smiled as he unsheathed it slowly, "This is Isenbold, the Orc Slayer, it is the companion to Orchrist. The legend goes that two warrior lovers trained together since childhood and were gifted the blades when they became of age, as wedding gifts, by the king before going off to battle with Orcs. They were separated during the fighting and the woman managed to find the man shortly before death took him… She was stricken with a grief that was so deep and dark that she took her own life because she could no longer take the loneliness. The swords were forged, buried, and stolen together and now… They'll be used by worthy warriors once again." Elrond smiled and placed the blade back in its sheath.
"Sounds like a romantic story…" a female, sleep laced voice stated causing everyone to turn and find Torshar leaning against a marble pillar; dressed in an elvish, off the shoulder sleeping gown of pale yellow, bare feet and a visible bandage over her right shoulder. Thorin stood quickly and moved over to her, gently grasping her left hand.
He smiles, "I am glad to see you awake and moving around. Hungry?"
She smiles back, "Starving…" the prince gently took her hand and slowly guided her to the head table where Lord Elrond, Gandalf, and himself were just sitting. He gently helped her sit in the empty chair and one of the servants placed a plate of food in front of her, "I apologize for the circumstances upon my return visit, Lord Elrond. I hope out presence has not hindered you in any way." The versifier stated politely, earning a smile from her dining companions.
"Not at all, Torshar. You, and your company, are always welcome in Rivendell. Now, Gandalf, about these swords, where did you come by them?" the lord redirected, allowing Torshar to eat and not worry about making conversation.
"We found them in a troll hoard on the Great East Road, shortly before we were ambushed by Orcs." Gandalf answered.
Elrond leaned back in his chair with a smirk, "And what were you doing on the Great East Road?" this made the two dwarves become uneasy, enough for Thorin to excuse himself with a slight scowl. Torshar watched him go with sadness evident in her eyes.
Beautiful harp and flute music played in the background that soothed Torshar but only annoyed her dwarven companions. Bofur voiced that there was only one thing to do about it as he stood and climbed a stump that was taller than him, and began to sing, "There's an inn,
There's a merry old inn,
Beneath an old grey hill,
And there they brew a beer so brown,
The Man in the Moon himself came down,
One night to drink his full,
Oh, the ostler has a tipsy cat,
That plays a five string fiddle,
And up and down he runs his bow,
Now squeaking high, now purring low,
So, the cat on his fiddle played hey-diddle-diddle,
A jig that'll wake the dead,
He squeaked and he saw and quickened the tune,
While the landlord shook the Man in the Moon,
'It's after three!' he said!" when the song finished, all the dwarves were cheering loudly and in their celebrating, food was thrown and in that mix of craziness, Torshar stood quickly and shouted, "STOP THIS!"
Silence followed as the versifier seemed to teeter on her feet, "We are in the home of a good friend and dignified lord of the elves…! Please… Show some decency and respect for our host…" she pleaded then seemed to slowly fall but was caught by Thorin, who had all but bolted from halfway across the courtyard. Exhaustion was evident over her face as the prince lifted her into his arms, bridal style, and carried her back to her chambers.
"Thorin seems very protective of dear Torshar." Elrond mentioned as he watched the dwarf prince carry the versifier off.
Gandalf smiled, "It would seem so."
"You should not have pushed yourself, Torshar. Your strength had not yet returned. Rest." Thorin stated quietly as he laid his friend down and covered her with a blanket.
"If your men behaved like men, I wouldn't have had to use what little energy I had to correct them…" she said tiredly. Thorin knew she was right and made no move to correct her as he sat in the chair that was still beside her bed.
"I'm so sorry…" she whispered as tears began to sting her eyes.
This made the prince smile lightly as he held her hand, "What for, dear heart?"
"I have become a burden to you…" her voice broke a little and tears began to fall, "I should have never signed the contract… I should have stayed in Valtek, awaiting news of your reclaim of the Mountain… I should have-" her ramblings were silenced by a pair of warm lips on her own and a gentle hand at the back of her head. Joy, happiness, and excitement filled her heart as the versifier's eyes closed, savoring the sensation.
Thorin slowly pulled his lips away and smiled as he observed that the woman who held his heart in her hands had closed her eyes in bliss. When she didn't open them immediately, he moved in for another kiss except this one was a little more heated and passionate. A small sound of pleasure rose from Torshar's throat as she carefully reached a hand up to caress his cheek.
"Torshar… I'm the one who's sorry." Thorin began when he pulled away again, "I'm sorry for causing you so much pain… I care deeply for you – No… I love you so much that I was hesitant to have you accompany us to Erebor because of things like this happening… You stood in the line of fire for me and I am grateful but…" the dwarf prince gently kissed her knuckles, "I would be so lost and alone without you."
This confession weighed heavy on the versifier because she had felt the same for him and believed he would not return her feelings. More tears fell but were wiped away by the prince's thumbs, "Oh, my love, don't cry… It was not my intention to upset you."
"I'm not upset, Thorin… Just overly happy! I have loved you since the day we met and stood together in front of my chamber doors in Erebor… When we talked about the jewels… I remember the way they glistened in your eyes…" she whispered, earning a wider smile from the prince who took a thick lock of her hair, starting at the right temple, and braided it then clasped a courting bead of his own design at the end.
The tears came in waterfalls down her cheeks as she marveled at the braid's craftsmanship and artful style. Never had Torshar felt so much joy and not did she think she ever would because of Thorin's position. She also knew that she would never love another as much as she loved the dwarf man who now sat beside her.
Turning her gaze back up to the prince's face, her elation turned to horror as she looked into the face of beaten, bloodied version of her love. She found that her voice had disappeared so she could not scream nor could she move; even as the bloody Thorin climbed on top of her and wrapped his hands around her throat.
Gasping and bolting up in bed, Torshar breathed heavily and wiped the sweat from her brow, "What a terrible nightmare…" she muttered then cringed when she tried to move her right shoulder. Slowly rising from the bed, the versifier discovered that it was already dark outside and that she was wearing a blue strapless sleeping gown that was of elvish make, meaning she was in the one place meaning Gandalf had been leading them, "Rivendell…" Her bare feet carried her across the cool marble floor, past sheer white curtains, and placed herself on the balcony as a gentle breeze blew; turning her hair into a snow flurry.
"I think you can trust that I know what I'm doing, Elrond." She heard the wizard in grey state as he and the elf lord walked near her chambers through the garden.
"Do you? That dragon has slept for sixty years. What will happen if your plan should fail? If you awakened him?" the brunette asked.
"What if we succeed? If the dwarves take back the Mountain, our defenses in the East will be strengthened"
"It is a dangerous move, Gandalf." Suddenly, a hand gently grasped her left shoulder making Torshar turn quickly to find Thorin fine and well.
"It is also dangerous to do nothing! The throne of Erebor is Thorin's birthright! What is it you fear?!"
The elf stopped and quickly turned to the wizard, "Have you forgotten?! A strain of madness runs deep in that family. His grandfather lost his mind, his father succumbed to the same sickness. Can you swear that Thorin Oakenshield will not also fall?" the two then began to walk again as Torshar looked at the worried face of her King Under the Mountain and gently laid a hand on his cheek.
"Thorin… You will not fall… You are too strong…" she said quietly and slowly as she embraced him around the neck and lost herself in his scent.
The dwarf male slowly returned the hug but was confused when Torshar yanked herself away from him, "What is it, Torshar? Have I done something to offend you?"
Her breathing was slightly labored when she answered, "Forgive me… it was just the memories of a nightmare…:
Thorin approached slowly, "May I hold you, my friend?" Tears sprang to her eyes as she nodded and rushed into his open arms, "It's alright… I'm here now…" he cooed and gently ran his fingers through her hair with a kiss on the top of the head.
Ever so slowly, Torshar pulled back when her stomach growled a little loud, making her blush and him chuckle, "Come, let us get you something to eat." He took her hand again and began to lead her out of the room, only stopping briefly to allow her to slip on some slipper-like shoes.
Lindir was very helpful when the two dwarves were found roaming the halls towards the kitchens; he already had a small picnic set up in a secluded garden per instructions. Thorin thanked the elf who nodded with a smile and pointed out the direction that should be taken. Torshar smiled in embarrassment as he she held onto the man's arm while they walked.
"Are you alright, Torshar? You seem rather flushed. Thorin teased then laughed when the versifier punched him in the arm as they happened upon the garden picnic.
"This was very sweet of Lindir!" the young maiden said graciously as she knelt on the large blanket.
Thorin cleared his throat, "It was not Lindir's idea…" he stated with a smirk, making the versifier turn with a surprised smile.
"Thorin… You didn't plan this… Did you?"
The smirk grew wider as the prince sat beside her, "I may be a warrior and a prince, but I do have a soft side."
Torshar laughed and poured two goblets of wine then handed one to her friend, "To us…"
"To us…" and they clinked goblets then took swigs. The set up was various cheeses, breads, and crackers to accent the wine and Torshar ventured to try several; offering some to the king-to-be.
When she had had enough of the food and wine her expression turned a little more serious, "This was very sweet, Thorin. I appreciate it greatly, I really do… But what is this really about?" the versifier asked as she set her goblet aside to focus on his answer. Thorin could not understand how this woman could see right through him. Although he did not think about it long because of the distracting way the moonlight struck her hair, giving her the appearance of a celestial being of wondrous beauty. Slowly, the prince reached out and moved some of the moonbeams out her face making her smile.
His heart was thundering in his chest cavity as his finger brushed her cheek and their gazes locked; starlight boring into sapphire. Gathering up what little courage he had left, he tenderly grasped her smooth hands in his calloused, hard worked ones, "May I show you…? What this is really about…?" he asked with sincerity.
The second she nodded in approval he captured her lips in a passionate kiss. But all good dreams must come to an end and this one stopped all too quickly by a terrified, "STOP!"