My thanks to Borys for Dain's new nickname, and thank you dear readers for your continued support! It means so much that you are taking time out of your lives to comment on my efforts.

Chapter 35

Thorin took the parchment in a daze, not believing that she would leave without telling him, and the maid curtsied and left before he could question her. The others said nothing, knowing that any words would pain him more. Frain grimaced at his hurting cousin. Anger would come, he was sure, and with a force he was unable to bear.

I hope he can control himself well enough to leave me in one piece.

"She left me," Thorin said. Pain softened his voice to a sigh. "She must have walked right by me with the maids when we came in. That's why they were here, wasn't it?" He looked toward Frain, waiting for confirmation. Frain inclined his head, and Thorin nodded with the heavy weight of finding out something he didn't want to know.

"Thorin," Frain started, but the king held up a hand. "Don't," he said just as soft as before. "After all we've … after everything that's … she …," and he turned on his heel and walked out the door. The rest were stunned by his uncharacteristic response. The Thorin they knew would crush the parchment in his fists with and storm out of the infirmary barking orders for her to be found at once, his anger congealing into resentment of all who contributed to her disappearing. Then again, she brought out a side of him that none knew existed. Dain looked back and forth from his son to his cousins and decided to leave before more ire was flung his way.

"Well, he made his escape fast enough," Balin observed after the door closed. Dwalin nodded.

"Dain the Dim with a Death Wish," he said under his breath. "On second thought, we should have let Thorin have a go." Nodding to Frain, "but you set him straight well enough." With puckish glee, they mulled over what might have happened if they had let Thorin loose.

"Would he have beaten him to tenderized meat, do you think?" Frain asked. Dwalin grinned.

"No, Thorin would have aimed for what got under his skin. He'd have made sure that Dain couldn't flap his yap for the rest of the week. Maybe broken a couple of fingers as well. You'd have liked that, lad, so don't look so disgusted."

After a beat, Kerba turned to find Thorin.

"I'll talk to him," he said, and no one thought to contradict him. Balin and Dwalin eyed each other, both willing to shoulder Thorin's burden but relieved all the same that someone else stepped in. His reaction was unexpected and needed a deft hand.

"Kerba's better at this anyway," Dwalin said. "I don't have those kind of words."

Lord Kerba watched the younger dwarf from a distance. Thorin had retreated down a long hall and held his breath while he unrolled the scroll. His brow knotted with misery, and he absorbed every word, wringing out each sentence to until there was nothing left to understand.

My Dearest Thorin, my love,

I never thought to be writing to you again,, but I'm not writing this with the intention of retreating back into the shadows. I know that you worry that I've been harmed and perhaps even coerced into writing this letter, and I want to assure you that I'm well and safe. You may not understand what I've done, and I'm sure you don't agree with it, but I ask you to bear with me and allow me to sift through all that's happened by myself. My heart and mind are so turbulent that I can scarce bear it, and I feel like a deer running from hunters, my heart beating so fast that that it might burst from my chest.

All my life I dreamed of what my father was like. Mother told me little, but what she did say was that he was noble and brave and loved us very much. She said that he was never so happy as when she told him she was with child, and for years I imagined his exuberant expressions of joy and his tender care of mother while she blossomed. Now I know that all of that was a lie. Instead, my father, the one I thought died to protect us, threw mother over for political gain and allowed her to suffer in silence and shame. I thought she wanted to drown herself because she couldn't see a life without him. Perhaps she wanted to die because she was cast out of the only home she ever knew and had to sever ties with her family in order to conceal us. I'll never know, but I need to come to terms with that.

Please believe that I'm not running from you. I need to find who I am and what I want apart from the expectations of others. Lord Dain has been pressuring us to have a relationship with him, and I need to be sure of what I want before I speak to him. Look in the night table drawer if you want to see how persistent he's been.

Please, Thorin, don't take your hurt out on Frain. He did this to help me be someone who can stand with confidence, and I believe you want that too. I will be back soon.

All My Love to My Black Lion,

Relianna

The parchment slipped from his fingers, and he made no move to catch it. Lord Kerba stepped closer.

"Thorin?"

He turned his head a fraction to acknowledge his presence, and Kerba picked up the letter and held it out to him.

"Go ahead, read it," Thorin said with a mirthless grin. "There's nothing personal in it." Kerba scanned the letter and nodded at its conclusion. He wasn't surprised. Her words were ones of a young woman trying to hold together until she could grieve and mourn in private but, of course, Thorin wouldn't see it that way.

"She's not changing her mind on you," Kerba said. "Too much has happened in this past month for her to take in, but she will muddle through it with time."

Lifting his mouth on one side in a bitter twist, Thorin wouldn't let his words hit their mark. "So I am to drag my feet and wait while she eases her mind without any concern for me? You don't do that to someone you love."

Kerba refused to have him wallow. "Did you read only what you wanted to? She wrote like one trying to hold back a tidal wave of hysteria. She's a strong lass, Thorin, but the events of this month would have driven most of our womenfolk mad. Think back on what's happened. She's been rocked from one calamity to another, almost died twice, and let's not forget her time in Onkra's service. Some of her other servants are still recovering from what I'd describe as battle trauma."

"Her brother."

"Her brother did what any loving and loyal brother would do," Kerba said, undeterred by Thorin's line of thought. "His courage keeps surprising me. He's willing to stand up to you—so to speak—because he loves her enough to take on your rage, even in his condition. Thorin, he wouldn't have let her go if it wasn't necessary."

"She could have told me."

"Would you have let her leave, or would you have insisted on sending armed guards with her? She knows you, Thorin. You would have demanded to see to her welfare when that's the last thing she wants anyone to do."

"I don't understand."

"Trace her life then. Has she ever been out of sight? Has she ever had any time without supervision to do as she wills and think her own thoughts? Consider that. Always under someone's eye, always hidden away from the world. From her mother to her grandfather to her brother to Onkra to you."

"I don't like that progression."

"Then break the chain."

Thorin walked back into the room to find Frain alone with his arms crossed and his mouth set in anticipation of a torrent of emotion.

"Well?" he asked. "You can start anytime."

"Start what?" Thorin asked. Frain gestured toward himself with both hands.

"Unleashing your towering temper on me," he said. "I'm waiting."

Thorin fell into a chair instead. "No pun, Frain, no joke to lighten the mood?"

"No," his cousin replied. "We're both acting against our natures now. Humor is my way of handling difficult moments. Mahal knows we had more than our share. I'm guessing that annihilation is your way of coping, but I didn't hear any furniture smashing."

Thorin gave a dry chuckle, then he turned to his cousin. "Tell me truthfully, will she come back? This isn't a polite farewell until you both leave under cover of night? I know you wanted to at one time."

Giving him a sidelong look, Frain huffed and pulled a face. "Are you serious? You are, aren't you? I should be offended and outraged even, but I'll go easy on you since this came as a shock. Thorin, would she had stood up to Zozer if she had any intention of leaving you? Mahal above! She nearly died to be with you. What other proof do you need?"

Bending forward and putting his palms on his thighs, Thorin took the hit in silence. "I don't like this feeling. I don't like being helpless."

"I'll bet you don't," Frain replied, "nor is it a common occurrence I'm sure, but you'd better get used to it where Relianna is concerned. You won't be able to tame her, Thorin. I call her Flame-rider for a reason. She'll bend to your will because she loves you, but don't mistake that for control."

"How long will this take?"

"As long as it needs to, and if you love her, you'll give her the time. Her entire life's been upended."

"And you? What about you?"

Frain sighed and dropped his head to his chest. He said nothing while Thorin waited, but emotions flitted across his face, and Thorin saw that he was in just as much pain. Not wanting to press him for an answer, he tried instead to open the night stand drawer. It stuck, and he had to force it out, causing scraps and small notes to cascade over the side and fall like leaves to the floor. Frain looked over and scoffed.

"Who knew that Lord Dain was so expressive?" Thorin grunted in response, surprised and dismayed by the onslaught of requests and pleadings to visit. "Oh, and that doesn't include poor Nella being forced to deliver his verbal messages by the hour."

"I should have known," Thorin said in a low voice. "I should have put a stop to this," but Frain shrugged and stretched with a yawn.

"It wouldn't have mattered," he said. "She still would have left. Don't go looking for her. She's safe." Seeing at the devastation on Thorin's face that he didn't try to hide, Frain couldn't help but reach out to him. "She's not gone far, not far at all. In fact, she's closer than you think."

At that, Thorin pushed to his feet and headed to the door.

"I'll be as patient as I can," he said, "but I'm not known for it, and that's something she can't control."

According to Thorin's schedule, he was not expected back in his chambers until after the nightly feast, so Relianna didn't need to keep quiet, and she wandered around the rooms, taking in what would be her sanctuary. In anticipation of their wedding, Thorin had added a number of touches make her feel welcome. He had placed a new set of pipes in her room, remembering how she played that day when dressed as a guard. The colors of the room suited her well, having been changed a third time to greens, golds, and shades of rust and orange. She squeezed the fat, down pillows that her friends brought in, and pushed her hands into the softness of the silk and velvet comforter decorated with flowing script of an entwined "T" and "R" embroidered on the top in gold thread. In truth, her friends didn't need to do a thing since Thorin had her chambers redecorated from top to bottom with scenes of the outdoors on the walls and furnishings and floor coverings the green of summer grass. Fingering jars of fragrant blossoms, she pulled the corks and sniffed the outdoor scents. Her hands trailed over the bindings of new books that he arranged on her shelf. Several were books of herbal remedies from Lord Kerba with pressed honeysuckle blossoms between the pages. Others were stories of derring-do and great escapades, while still others were volumes of love poems. She opened one and was surprised to see certain poems underlined. She had wondered what he did inbetween their visits, and now she knew how he had spent at least some of this time.

Are these for me, or has he always been this romantic but never had reason to show it?

Her fingertips ran over one such poem, and its unabashed yearning forced a sharp inhale.

Healing Love

Lost in a wasteland, my heart wandered long,
aching and thirsting for that which is strong.
Affection not quite, nor friendship to bear,
but passion so fierce it has to be shared.

Beauty calls out to the song in my heart,
and it swells with desire for loving to start.
Who'll be my queen? I know not her name,
but it matters not when our hearts beat the same.

She kissed the poem before she closed the book and replaced it on the shelf. Putting her hand on the door separating her chambers from his, she resisted the temptation to peek into his bedroom again. Never having been alone for any length of time before, she struggled not to revel in its novelty and forget why she was there. She had come with a purpose, and she pulled herself away to deal with the matters as hand, as distasteful as they were.

Mother, why didn't you tell me the truth when I came of age? Why didn't you see fit to share it with me? Did you think me that fragile?

Then again, perhaps her mother didn't want to take away the thin solace that her dreams of her father provided. Besides, her mother couldn't ever have imagined how events would bring things to light! And yet, in all the tragedy, there was Thorin and a life free of Onkra. Blessings to be sure. Settling to her knees on a fur rug in front of a cold fireplace, she started from the beginning and ran through all that her mother and grandfather had said to her, trying to piece her life back together. Tears began to fall.

Please forgive my poor attempt at poetry, but I tried to write something that would suit Thorin's nature. I hope it did him justice. Please review!