Disclaimer: J.R.R. Tolkien owns all save for characters not in his works.
Dream of us.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
T.A. 2941
Rivendell
There was the sound of fluttering, wind lazily pulling at cloth, birdsong and warmth. But there was an ache too, deep in her bones. Every muscle burned and it was a struggle to lift the lids of her eyes. After a few flutters her hazel eyes finally opened to take in her surroundings. At first the light was too bright and she had to shut her eyes again, and slowly open them before she could make out the ceiling above her.
The light wood was vaulted slightly. With some effort she lifted her head, the muscles in her neck protesting. The room she was in was elegantly furnished, the wide bed she lay on had soft white linens. There was a wardrobe at one end of the room, a vanity on the wall nearest to her. The curtains by the balcony billowed in the wind. It was peaceful.
"How do you feel?" asked a small voice to her left. Slowly she turned her head and her eyes landed on a small hobbit. Nuil's lips stretched into a smile.
"Bilbo," her voice cracked. Her mouth felt dry. With a sigh she let her head drop back down into the pillows, glad he was alright. Her memories of how she got here though, were a little hazy. She knew that she had been wounded, a poisoned orc arrow, and she was in Rivendell. The how as to why she was here and patched up, was all a blur to her. Of which Nuil was grateful for.
"Oh, here," Bilbo said getting to his feet and reaching for a small cup. "Lord Elrond said that you would be needing this once you woke up." He slid one of his hands under her head and held the cup to her lips. Nuil readily accepted the water as it trickled into her mouth, downing the whole cup. Bilbo set her head down and she sighed once more.
"Thank you."
"How- how do you feel?" Bilbo was wringing his hands, bouncing on the balls of his feet. It was a nervous habit of his.
"Incredibly sore," she murmured. "How long have I been asleep?"
"Just this afternoon. We weren't expecting you to wake so soon," Bilbo replied. "Thorin says that we need to leave in the morning, Lord Elrond deciphered the map."
"He did?"
"It was moon runes. The map told us that to find the door we have to be there on Durin's day," Bilbo told her. Nuil shut her eyes briefly. Now they had to leave. She was . . . still injured. They might have to leave her behind. Thorin might get his wish after all.
"We've all been worried about you. I think Thorin has the most. He probably is unhappy about what happened."
Nuil chuckled opening her eyes, "he should, I saved his life."
Bilbo grimaced.
She watched the guilt sweep across his face, and the pain that followed.
"Do you- do you think I made the right choice? Coming with them?" Nuil frowned, reaching out a hand. Bilbo slowly took it and she gave his a squeeze.
"Don't doubt yourself, Bilbo," she told him firmly. "Gandalf and I believe in you. Remember that."
"But you won't be there," Bilbo said with fear entering his voice.
"Of course I will."
"They're saying we have to leave you behind."
"Maybe I'll follow like before," she said stubbornly. "This isn't my first orc arrow."
"But it was the worst, right?"
Nuil pressed her lips into a thin line. Yes, it was. Bilbo seemed to see her answer in her silence. He sighed and looked to the balcony.
"Sometimes I don't think I really know you at all," he murmured. "You were there for my childhood, you were my mothers companion, my protector. But when I think about it, I don't really know much about you. I know you're a warrior . . . but that's it."
Nuil frowned.
"Is that all you remember?"
Bilbo looked down at his feet in shame.
"I remember telling a young hobbit bedtime stories, showing him the woods outside his home, baking with him," she went on. "Playing with him when all the other hobbit lads and lasses grew out of adventures and fairy tales."
Bilbo bit his lip.
"Don't you remember the stories?"
He looked up at her.
"Those were real."
His blue eyes went wide and his jaw dropped. "What? The elven halls in Mirkwood, the warg pack that nearly killed that warrior, the battle where the dwarrodam was buried alive? That was all you?"
Nuil merely gazed at him.
"I should have known . . ." his gaze turned thoughtful. "Does Fili and Kili know this?"
"They've heard the stories, but no, they don't know this. Not many do. Thorin even thinks the tale of Mirkwood is a tale, not that he enjoys hearing it, and not something I experienced."
"Why?"
"They make far better stories than memories, Bilbo," Nuil told him. "And a story can have a happy ending, even when the truth doesn't."
Thorin found her on a balcony, sitting on her own on a bench. He had been wandering the many paths and halls in Rivendell, his mind still reeling from Elronds words. He couldn't quite get them out of his head. Turning on his own kin. Thorin didn't think he could do it. But then again, he had seen his own grandfather succumb to gold sickness. He had seen its strong grasp in his father.
Was it truly in him? Was he doomed to the same fate as his father and grandfather? To turn his back on the world and only see the gold . . . surely he couldn't fall to such an illness? Thorin could not imagine turning his back on the very people he had devoted his life to. Just couldn't.
As he thought this, Thorin waited in the shadows, concealed by the gossamer curtains that billowed in the night breeze. He did not want Nuil to see him like this, knowing that she would only worry on his behalf. He would have rathered that she had stayed behind, safe. But she was too stubborn to listen to him. Perhaps if he had moved sooner, asked for her hand and married her. Maybe then, she would have listened to the wishes of her husband.
Husband.
If there was one thing that Thorin had wished he had done sooner, was ask for her hand in marriage. Made her his wife while the chance was right. Regret filled him and he tried hard to squash it.
Nuil turned, her eyes searching the shadows. Thorin knew he must have made a sound. Age had not hindered her skill, that much he knew. She looked tired, her skin a pale ashen color, but her eyes were bright, searching.
"Who's there?" she called out.
Thorin hesitated. Would he give away his inner turmoil? Would she want him to be near her? His desire to know how she was won out and slowly he stepped forward into the light of the lanterns and moon.
Nuil's eyes landed on him, narrowing slightly at the expression on his face. He looked exhausted and worn. Heightened by his slumped shoulders and deep frown. Usually he gave her a tiny upturn of the lips when he saw her. This time he did not. Nuil was glad to see him though, happy that he was there with her now. His eyes were a sea of turmoil, and she knew, something was bothering him.
Silently she held out her hand to him, inviting him closer, with a small smile. Thorin hesitated, indecision coursing through him, but he finally stepped forward and approached her, sliding his hand into her smaller one. Nuil smiled at him, enjoying the feel of his larger, warmer, calloused hand enveloping her own. He said nothing as she pulled him around the bench to sit at her side.
Thorin sat stiffly next to her, still holding her hand, before he finally spoke, his voice low.
"What are you doing up?"
"I was watching the sunset," she replied honestly. "It is so lovely here."
"When did you wake?"
"A little after supper, Bilbo was there," Nuil said.
Thorin hummed. "He was. . . good. How do you feel?"
"Sore, but no worse than anything I've experienced before."
"Lord Elrond said that you nearly entered the halls of your forefathers," he said, tightening his grip on her hand. As if he was reassuring himself that she was in fact really there.
"I did not know that," Nuil murmured. Almost died? That had never happened before. Was he alarmed, worried, that he might've lost her? A moment later he released her hand and wrapped his arm around her, pulling her into his warm embrace. Nuil pressed herself into his side, having not realized how cold she had been. Thorin rested the side of his head on the top of her own.
They sat in silence for a few more moments, enjoying each others company, and warmth. As Nuil looked at the heavens a new thought came to her, of a memory long ago. She turned her head to look at Thorin, he in turn did the same.
"I want to show you something," she said softly, turning her gaze out to the stars. He watched her for a moment before turning his own gaze to the stars as well.
"My mother was a superstitious woman," Nuil began after a period of silence. "She believed in fate, and destiny. Dreams always held a meaning. She married my father because he believed her work had brought him luck. They did love each other, there was more than her superstition that drew them together."
Nuil sighed. "My father was the same, if not more so. He showed me constellation once. It has always held great meaning to me." She leaned forward on the bench, narrowing her eyes until a small smile crept on her lips.
"Do you see it?" Nuil asked pointing to the stars. Thorin watched her hand, tracing the outline of a ring of stars. "My father called it the 'mountain crown', abad bovan. He saw it over Erebor. He called it fate. A right to rule."
Thorin watched her eyes gleam with old memories.
"I do not condemn your quest, Thorin, but I am wary of the fate you will meet," she whispered.
His fists clenched and a small jolt of anger spiked through him. This was his quest, and his alone. It was never a matter of her accepting it or condemning it. His choice. It had to be done, or the wealth of his father and forefathers could land in the hands of those not of his people. Thorin felt his anger grow until Elrond's words from earlier drifted into the forefront of his thoughts.
He could not be angry with her for her doubts, shared so honestly with him. Because she worried for him and the outcome of the quest.
Nuil put her hand over his, resting their hands in her lap. Her smaller fingers rubbed circles over his rougher flesh, sending warm tingles up both their hands. Thorin reached out with his other hand and caressed her cheek. She leaned into his touch and he smiled slightly.
"Do you remember when you told me you loved me?" she whispered, eyes fluttering shut.
"I would never forget that, Nuilweyil," he murmured leaning closer to her. "I should never have let you go, and I regretted it."
"But I found you again," she replied. "I came many times, I'm here now."
"I know."
Her eyes opened and she gave him a smile. One of her hands reached up to touch his face, and a sigh left his lips. He took her hand and pressed a kiss into her palm, noting with pleasure how her breath hitched. He wrapped his arm around her, careful of her wound, and drew her closer to him. He moved his hand to lift her chin and gaze down into her eyes.
Mahal, her beautiful eyes.
She wasn't beautiful in the dwarven sense, she had no beard to boast. But she had the height. She was slight, but it was her eyes that drew him. Green with flecks of brown and gold. They were deep, like pools of water, and he wanted to get lost in those beautiful eyes. Lost in her and forget the worldly cares that weighed him down and made him feel like the prosperity of his people rested on his shoulders.
Slowly he brought his lips down to hers and gently carressed them, withholding his usual fire, but mindful of the beast that leaped within his chest. He gently held her. She responding readily. It had been years since they had seen each other last, years since they had kissed in such a way. Gently and full sweet touches. Her fingers curled in his hair, pulling slightly, as a breathless moan escaped her lips.
They pulled apart and she rested her head against his chest as he held her, running his fingers through her loose hair. The two stayed that way for a moment, basking in each others presence. Nuil's fingers curled in the fabric of his tunic. She lifted her head slightly.
"Stay with me," she breathed.
Thorin studied her eyes, before wordlessly pressing his lips to her brow. Contently she relaxed in his arms, unaware of the frown on his face, the pain gripping his chest as his thoughts turned to the disturbing words or Lord Elrond. He ran his fingers through her hair, until he heard her breathing even out, and felt her grip on him loosen.
Carefully he gathered her form in his arms, rising and taking her back into her room. Somehow he found it, several hallways and doors away from the balcony, the door left open. He briefly wondered how she had managed to walk so far in the state she was in. The blankets were already pulled back from when she had gotten up earlier, and he laid her down. He tucked her feet in, and pulled the blanket up, cupping her face with his hand as he watched her breath, hair splayed out on the pillow like a crown of brunette copper.
Thorin wished for many things, but what he wished for most of all was for a peaceful life that he could spend just with her. Yet fate had dealt him this hand. He had a duty to his people and to reclaim his homeland. He only hoped that after the quest was over, when his people were restored to their wealth, he could finally take her for his wife. For his queen.
He pressed another kiss to her brow, then her lips. He leaned down to whisper into her ear, taking in her scent, pines, the faint touch of flowers.
"Dream of us."
This story needed some romance. Bad. If there are any questions, just pm me and I'll explain anything. I also rewrote this chapter so it may be missing . . . things? I'm looking into getting a beta reader, so maybe that'll help?
Read and review!
~filimeala