Chapter 21

"The Longest Night"

Dark clouds began to close in above the trio who were still by the tree stump. Thorin watched from a window with baited breath as the Elf carefully gathered the woman in his arms and slowly lifted her from the ground. He then began to move towards the house just as the clouds opened up and to pour its tears onto the Earth. The wizard grabbed Calyr's belongings and hastily followed his lead back to the house.

The moment they crossed the threshold they were bombarded with questions by the Dwarves. Thorin had stayed by the window because it would not help to pester the healer; even his comrades thought otherwise.

"Men! Give the healer room to move! I'm sure Torshar needs someplace to rest." The leader stated and the entourage parted so Calyr could take her to the guest room.

Once Calyr had changed her clothes and bandages that had proceeded to be soaked by the rain, he pulled a thick blanket over her and checked her temperature; she was burning up. Sighing, he left the room and went into the kitchen, "Beorn, do you mind if I borrow your kettle?" when he received a dismissive wave, he combined Sandalwood oil, Valerian root, Feverfew, and Sweet Woodruff in the kettle then set it over the fire. Taking a seat to rest and watch the kettle, he took notice of his hands; covered in Torshar's blood. Unshed tears stung his eyes as he remembered the day they met.

It was a quiet night in autumn; Calyr reclined on a low branch outside of his new home staring up at the stars through the light canopy of the trees. The silence was broken when a twig snapped to his left and with lightening agility, his bow was drawn and aimed at the trespasser.

"Who are you?! Name yourself or I put one between your eyes!" he ordered and the stranger put their hands up in surrender.

"Don't shoot, I mean no harm. I am simply a traveling minstrel, seeking shelter for the night. I apologize for I had no idea anyone lived out here. May I approach, my lord?" the voice was feminine, which surprised the Elf who nodded but kept his weapon ready.

The figure stepped into the light of the torches that were placed around the boundary of his home to ward off intruders and slowly removed her hood. Moonlight white hair fell around her shoulders and down her back as her starry eyes made contact with his caramel ones. For a moment Calyr was awestruck, he had never seen such beauty on anyone, let alone a Dwarf.

"I am Torshar of Whurrak, I travel all over Middle-Earth singing songs and telling stories. I was on my way to Lord Beorn's but I'm afraid I have lost my way due to the cover of night." She explained calmly with her hands still raised to show good faith.

Calyr eyed her attire, worn traveling clothes that were a couple sizes too small, and boots that had holes in the bottoms due to the way she kept shifting her weight between them, 'She's been traveling a long time.' He stated mentally then slowly lowered his bow and stood up, "Take refuge in my home tonight, Torshar of Whurrak. In return you can allow me to make you some new clothes while you tell me stories of your travels."

Torshar was taken aback by his generosity and bowed gratefully, "Thank you, I will not disappoint you!"

Calyr smiled lightly and gestured for the young maiden to enter his home where her fed her, took her measurements, and set to making her new clothes and boots as she regaled him with some of the best stories he had ever heard. The pair ended up laughing together beside the fire after she told him the embarrassing story of her first performance. When it all fell silent once more, Torshar carefully asked a question that was burning her mind, "Why is a Wood Elf living all alone and not in the Kingdom of Greenwood?"

His hands seemed to falter in the stitching of his emblem in the inside of the back of the tunic, "The King and I had a disagreement… I walked out on him…"

"May I ask why and what was the disagreement about?"

The Elf man sighed as he slowly put the tunic down in his lap and stared at the dancing flames in his fireplace, "I was in love… With the King's son… He found out and I was ashamed so I ran… Master Beorn allowed me to remain here since I have no other kin… Every day I wonder if I made the right choice or I was simply a coward-"

"That is not true! You did what you believed to be best! Damn the King for being blinded to the feelings of his people!" Torshar stated angrily, "Forgive me, sir… I spoke out of turn."

"No… You are free to speak here. My name is Calyr… I never introduced myself properly." He smiled lightly and held a hand out to her which she returned.

The versifier smiled again but it fell when she voiced her next question, "Was the Prince aware of your feelings?"

"No… I never got the chance to tell him how I felt because of the situation with the King." He shook his head, "But enough about me, tell me about you. Why is a woman so young, running away?" Her head jolted up in surprise and shock to which the Elf motioned to her tunic, "The state of your clothes said it all. They are two sizes two small and covered in holes and tears. Forgive me for making assumptions but I wish to know your story."

"'My story'? I supposed it could be considered one of horror… My mother and two older brothers were murdered when I was but a young girl. My father was accused, tried, and found guilty… He was executed by hanging. But I know he could not have done it! He loved us all very much. Before he perished he… He told me to flee. When I am older and have the money, I am going to return to Valtek and restore honor to his name!" she explained.

"So then you are from Valtek, yet you announced yourself as being from Whurrak… Why?" the healer questioned.

Torshar sighed, "My uncle, father's brother, demanded that I be found and tried as my father's accomplice. It turns out that there is a woman by the name of Torshire in Whurrak so I simply laid in wait. Once the men realized they had the wrong person, they released her and gave up searching for me. I took to traveling and singing so no one would suspect anything."

"Well, rest assured, no one will find you here and whenever you need assistance in any way; I will be happy to oblige."

"Thank you, Calyr. You are a good friend." The minstrel smiled and received one in return.

Calyr woke from his reverie when the kettle began to whistle. The air smelled strongly of Sandalwood and Sweet Woodruff, meaning the brew was finished. Cautiously he removed the kettle from the flame, poured it in a small bowl that Beorn had set aside, and carried it with him as he went back to the guest room.

Thorin sat on a small ledge that served as a base for the support beams of the cover above the front entrance. The rain poured down in buckets and an occasional bolt of lightning would light up the sky, accompanied by a clap of distant thunder. His spirits were at an all time low due to the situation. The love of his life lay in bed, battling for dear life, and him being the cause of it all. This cold truth tore at his heart and refused to let it go. Tears welled up in his eyes as he laid his head back against the wall.

After tending to his patient, Calyr allowed the Dwarves to go and sit with her periodically to allow him time to regain his own energy. He made himself some peppermint tea, poured two mugs worth and stepped out of the front door, holding one mug out to the blue-eyed, raven-haired, teary-eyed, Dwarf who wiped his eyes and sat up straight.

"Thank you, sir."

"I am Calyr… And you are Thorin Oakenshield; I have been informed. Tell me, what happened today?" the Elf asked then took a sip of his own tea.

The Dwarf warrior looked down in sadness; not wanting to remember the terrible events. Calyr sensed his unease and quietly closed the door then leaned his back against the wall near Thorin's feet, "Would you like to know why I helped Lady Torshar?"

This got the other man's attention as he looked up in interest, "She wandered onto my property fifty years ago… Her clothes were too small and worn; I could not turn her away… We had dinner, we laughed, I made her new clothes and boots, and it was like magic; we became friends. We vowed that if ever one of us were in trouble and sent word, the other would come running. I wish to know who her attacker is Thorin… Please…"

The would-be-king closed his eyes in slight misery, gathered his will, and then stated, "I am the one who attacked Torshar. I was under the influence of the demon known as Duerim… He was contracted by Harar, Torshar's uncle, to destroy her so she would not find out about him murdering her family and framing her father. Please, Calyr, understand that I had no control of anything… I would never harm Torshar! I love her too much…"

The Elf took his words to heart but he needed his friend's side as well before voicing his opinion. He simply nodded, finished his tea, and then pushed off the wall to stand straight. Without facing the Dwarf he spoke, "Finish your tea, Thorin… Rest assured that I will not leave until Torshar is on the road to recovery. But know this… If I discover any fault in your tale… I will not hesitate to kill you. Torshar is like family to me, and I will do everything I can to protect her." A roll of thunder boomed as Calyr opened the door and returned inside; leaving Thorin to revel in his warning.