Written by kkolmakov

22 days ago...

"Wren, my dearest, I feel wonderful!" Thea sauntered into the common room of the inn she lived in along with Wren and her friends among the winegirls of Bree. She had just spent a glorious pair of hours in a room of a merchant passing the city, and her mood was soaring.

"Thea, I have news..." Wren was sitting on a bench, her hands clenched on her lap. Thea walked by and poured herself some wine. Wren sounded strange, but Thea very much wanted to share her newly acquired knowledge.

"Yes, yes, my darling, but in a moment, first I will share my wisdom with you..."

"Thea, it is indeed important..." Wren interrupted her, and Thea looked at her. Wren was surprisingly still clad in her healer's robe. Thea vaguely remembered it was a morning shift for Wren, she should have been back from the infirmary for hours.

"But, Wren, I learnt this new trick..."

"Thea! I am leaving Bree!" Thea froze, her arms mid air, her right hand in an obvious imitation of holding a certain part of male anatomy. She gave her friend an attentive look and noticed feverish flushed cheeks, widened eyes, hands worrying the belt of the robe.

"What?"

"I am leaving Bree. Tomorrow morning." There was something almost mad splashing in Wren's eyes, and Thea sat down near her. Wren was the most sober, the most practical person Thea had ever met, at the moment she was strung like a bow, her bottom lip red, almost bleeding, probably from Wren's customary habit of worrying it with her teeth.

"Your tone tells me it is not a fun trip to Hobbiton..." Wren shook her head.

"I am leaving for Erebor, Thea."

"Why, in the name of Maiar, to Erebor?" Thea looked at Wren in astonishment. She herself had little interest in war, but some vague rumours had reached her of course. The Lonely Mountain, somewhere up North, a Dwarven Kingdom. Something about a dragon and a big battle. Wine merchants had started returning from those lands recently, telling of the five armies that had clashed in one valley, but of course that mattered little compared to the possibility of the new trade routes, new treaties between the Elves of Mirkwood, the Dwarves, and there seemed to be a large ruined town of Men there too.

Wren dropped her eyes on her never stopping fingers, the belt wrapped around her little digit, almost blue from the cut down blood circulation. "It happened seven years ago. I met a Dwarf, and..."

"And?.." Thea felt the world was crumbling around her, she almost wanted to check Wren's forehead for fever. Wren did not meet men, Wren did not see men. Thea had known Wren for almost six years, not once Wren showed any interest. She also never judged Thea for hers. And then again… a Dwarf? Thea slightly wrinkled her nose in apprehension. The Stunted Ones were perhaps the only kind of men Thea found unappealing. They were seen in Bree a lot, and she had encountered plenty in the travels with the merchants, but dealings with them were tricky, and felt somewhat… dirty, their ways too different, their greed insatiable. Many condoned their libidinousness, that Thea minded little, but never wanted to experience first hand. And to think of it… Wren, the pristine, neat, cold and sarcastic Wren, and one of the Mountain Dwellers...

"And he came back for me." Wren suddenly swayed, and Thea grabbed her shoulder. "Maiar, he came back for me... I have been sitting here for five hours… After seven years, and he said he wanted to make me his Queen, and he is so..." Wren's voice was rising higher and reached an unprecedented level of shriekiness, "Large..." She choked, bent ahead and hid her face into the knees. She was now breathing heavily into the skirt of her healer's robe. One word particularly stood out for Thea.

"Queen, Wren?"

"His name is Thorin Oakenshield... The King Under the Mountain, Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror… He came into my infirmary today and said he wanted to marry me... He has not seen me for seven years... He is mad, is he not? There is some sort of delirium... Certainly fever of sorts… And I am surely ailing too, my skin is burning, and there is some sort of ringing in my ears. I wonder if that is how fainting feels, I have never had it... He kissed me, I kissed him, and touched him in the closet... He was real… There was fur on the collar"

Thea knew hysterics when she saw them. A slap was decisive and loud, and Wren gasped and gulped air, sanity returning into her eyes. She blinked, and then Wren of Enedwaith was back.

"May I have a glass of water, please?" Her voice was her usual calm and soft lilt, and Thea rushed to the table and hurriedly brought a goblet to her friend. Wren drank in small sips, and Thea started rubbing her back soothingly. Wren was breathing more evenly now, and then looked at Thea with pained eyes. "I have been sitting here for five hours, I have worked my shift, as if nothing happened, and then I came back here, I sat down… And then it just kept on swirling in my head..." She suddenly grabbed Thea's shoulders, her strong little fingers digging into Thea's skin painfully, and the latter winced. "I have not even started packing. I am to come to the Prancing Pony first thing in the morning, and I need to start packing. Thea, will you please help me?"

One thing was to be said about Wren. She was loyal like a dog, one of those friends one would want to have if one happened to get in trouble or lead a slightly despicable life, she would be fighting for her friends till the last spoonful of blood in her tiny body, and interestingly enough there was plenty of fight in the ickle redhead. Thea could remember an instance when Wren smashed a chair at the back of the head of an overly zealous Northman who decided that Thea was to join him in his room despite her obvious reluctance. At the same time Wren never expected anything in return. She took people the way they were, and Thea decisively got up.

"Lead the way, my darling."

XXX

They entered Wren's room, and the redhead froze at the door. She was once again taking sharp breaths in. "Give me a moment, Thea." She pressed a hand to her chest. "I was leaving this morning and was planning to go to the market in the evening. I am out of candles. And I will never come back to this room again. I need a moment."

These words suddenly made Thea realise what was happening. She rushed to her friend and pulled Wren to herself. She wanted to ask whether Wren was certain, and whether she had thought it through, and Thea had myriads of questions, but Wren softly untangled herself from her arms and walked to her bed. She bent down and pulled a big trunk from underneath it. Thea had never seen it before.

Wren knelt in front of it, Thea was staring at the vulnerable back of her neck, skin pale, small orange curls, so defenseless and almost child-like, and Wren spoke evenly, "I love him, Thea, I always have. I have loved him for seven years. I would have gone with him anywhere, as his servant or his mistress… I would have given him anything he wanted… He asked me to marry him, and he is making me his Queen. I will worry about it later, how I will live there… And the Khazad..." The raspy, throaty word sounded staggering on Wren's lips, and Thea froze, clenching her fists, "Right now I will be happy that he..." Wren's voice broke but she took deep breath in and turned to Thea. Wren's eyes were dry, burning with determination and the firmness that had always been hiding under her demure delicate manners. "I will be happy that he loves me."

Thea knelt near her friend, and unlike Wren she let tears spill and sobs escape her throat. Wren rubbed her small dry palm up and down Thea's upper arm, as if Thea was the one needing comforting here, and then with a decisive jerk Wren opened the trunk.

It was full of the most exquisite clothing Thea had ever seen in her life. And Thea knew her fabrics. She wore the most expensive dresses out of all wine girls in Bree, she paraded her shawls, she changed shoes unnecessarily often, her undergarments were of the most indecent and most luscious kind, and yet she had never in her life seen anything even closely compared to the neat piles her ever so dull friend had been keeping in a trunk under her bed.

"Wren..."

"I have been buying these clothes for seven years, I have been putting them here, I never wore a single one of them..." Wren's voice was strangely even, and Thea shortly wondered if another hysterical fit was coming. "I never thought I would need them..."

"Wren, they are all… white..." Thea just could not wrap her mind around the content of the trunk. Wren had three dresses, Thea was as sure as eggs is eggs, one dark blue, one grey, and she wore her healer's robe, her hair was braided around her head and she had three pairs of shoes for the whole year. There was an old cloak, and when they tended to their laundry together Thea would have a good laugh at Wren's expense, over her modest knee long bloomers and chemises, with no lace or embroidery, pristine and boring.

Thea picked up a item from the very top, and her eyes widened. In front of her nose, dangling on her index fingers she saw the most obscene chemise she had ever seen in her life. The cut was low, decorated with the most exquisite Gondor lace, a string of river pearls was to hold it around a neck, clasped at the nape, and the string went down, along a naked back, and Thea felt blush spill on her cheeks. The pearls were a leash and an invitation, and she whipped her head and stared at Wren.

"It is made by that seamstress you suggested to me. It cost three month wages of mine," Wren suddenly chuckled, "I miscalculated then and had to live on bread and water for a month." Thea felt her jaw slack.

"Was that… Is that for your Dwarf?"

"Do you think me mad?" Wren suddenly asked, and then she brushed her hand to the fabric of a night robe, of rich velvet, also white, just like all of the attires, "I have been buying clothes for a man who was never to come. There are shoes there too… I never thought I would deserve putting any of it on..."

Thea threw the chemise in and once again pulled her friend into a tight embrace. She cared little whether Wren needed it at the moment, her own heart was clenching in acute pain and sympathy.

"Wren, you cow! Of course you deserve it, every one of these… Maiar help me, these gems," she held her friend on straight arms on her shoulders now and gave her a glare.

"I mean, they are white… Where would I have worn white to? And I do love the colour..." Wren smiled shakily. "Do you want to see the dresses?"

Thea suddenly imagined what it would have felt like to buy dresses for a man who was never to see them. Thea could not understand loving a man thusly, but she loved Wren. Thea shook her chestnut curls, wiped off her tears and was ready to be the friend Wren deserved.

"Maiar, Wren, of course!" Thea shook off her mawkishness and started seeing the bright side of what was transpiring. Clothes!

Wren's eyes were shiny, they were pulling an item after an item, Thea would gasp and admire, Wren would blush, some of the undergarments would make her hide behind them, and Thea would laugh. She pushed her own resentment for the Dwarves at the back of her mind and just remembered that Wren was finally to have a lover who would appreciate her. Sensible and cautious in everyday life, Wren was seemingly cold and dispassionate but there was one thing that made Thea think there was fire hidden in her little friend. Wren danced. Wren loved nothing as much as she loved to dance, and there, with fiddles and harps playing away, she would suddenly lose her usual decorous composure, her eyes would burn and her slender body would suddenly move sensually and swiftly, small feet would move and leap, and she was no little bird anymore, she was flame and life, and perhaps the Dwarf did not stand a chance.

After a while Wren brought some food from downstairs, it was past midnight but they decided they could indulge themselves, they ate and laughed, Wren was telling the stories of the face seamstresses and cobblers would make when she would show up with another roll of white silk, or another idea for a shoe. Thea was listening, enjoying the happy smile on her friend's face, shaking her head in disbelief, another little shoe in her hand, with an intricate clasp on top, and long silk ribbons to wrap around Wren's tiny ankles.

And then Thea rushed to her room and brought a pile of her own clothes. Little would fit Wren, she was ickle, while Thea had an opulent bosom and curvaceous hips, but still Thea felt sudden urge to gift her friend with something, something the little redhead would take with her into that strange new life of hers, and Wren hugged her, mumbling words of gratitude, and without a single objection she got up and started trying on the attires Thea brought for her. Little fit, and they laughed wholeheartedly at the sleeves too long and hems dragging on the floor, and yet Wren twirled in front of Thea, as if wearing the most ostentatious of attires, and finally two white chemises travelled from the pile on Wren's bed into her trunk.

"Try the robe, Wren, it is new, I just bought it," Thea pushed it into her friends hands, "I know it is not white but perhaps you need at least one colourful thing." The robe was of soft velvet, dark green, and Wren gracefully slipped in it, only bloomers and undertunic on her, and she deftly tied the belt with tassels. The robe was too big, and it opened on her chest. If she were bare, the sides of her small breasts would be visible. Thea was going to lament it, when suddenly Wren looked herself over in the mirror, and a small smile played on her lips. Thea froze with a slice of apple to her lips. She had never seen such expression on the redhead's face, and if asked before would never think that such salacious, hungry fire could burn in Wren's slanted eyes.

"Thank you, Thea, I will cherish your gift."

"Tell me of him, Wren." Thea blurted out, suddenly feeling distressed, throwing the fruit aside.

"Thea..."

"I worry, Wren! A man from seven years ago, a Dwarf for that matter, and they are not..." Thea stumbled over her words and met Wren's eyes. She expected anger and defensiveness, but Wren gave her a soft understanding smile.

"They are not to be trusted, is that what you thought, Thea?" Wren sat on the bed near her friend and folded her hands on her knees. She paused, gathering her thoughts or perhaps lost in some memories, and then she sighed, softly and contently. "He left me seven years ago because he could not have me as his wife. He was a King and a Dwarf, and… he loved me. From that night. I think I have always known it, but it was so painful to think of it..."

"You never told me," Thea sounded almost offended, but Wren moved closer and placed her head on Thea's shoulder. Her hair was soft and tickled Thea's nose, it smelled of Wren's customary lilacs oil, and Thea picked up her small hand.

"It would have made him real. If I never spoke of him, he was just a dream. One night of madness, and a dream never to come true. Just a trunk full of things I could never have."

As much as Thea's heart ached for the pain her friend had had to endure in those seven years, Thea could not let one question go unanswered.

"So there was one night, Wren..." Curiosity slipped into her voice against her will, and Wren chuckled on her shoulder.

"Oh Thea, please, never change..." Her voice was teasing. "Nothing happened. We kissed. And then he said he would never love another and left."

"You two are demented," Thea shook her head in disbelief.

"I know," Wren suddenly giggled, "You should have seen the faces of his companions. He came with some sort of an advisor and with his nephew, and then he started proposing to me in the middle of the infirmary. And that baker I was telling you about last week, remember? The one who got attacked by a goat, the baker was staring at us, and then he dragged me into a closet."

"The baker?!" Thea moved away from her friend and stared at her.

"Thorin!" Wren suddenly froze, and then repeated as if tasting the name on her lips, "Thorin..." And that was when Thea made a glorious discovery.

"You are besotted with him!" Wren suddenly smiled widely, her wide bright mouth stretched from ear to ear, her eyes uncharacteristically dreamy, and Thea clasped her hand over her mouth.

"Oh, Thea, I know you are not particularly fond of Dwarves, but..." Wren suddenly moved closer and looked into Thea's eyes ardently, "You are my best friend, and I am begging you to believe me, he… he is the best man there existed. He is noble, loyal, passionate, brave… He is loved as a King, I had spoken with Dwarves if I ever had gotten a chance, some were willing to discuss him… And Thea… He is so beautiful! I forgot how he was, and he stood there, covered in the road dust, and thinned… He looked thinned, it is probably from the battle wounds, but Thea..." Wren bit into her bottom lip, red spots blooming on her cheekbones, and she made an energetic gesture with her hands. "He is… majestic, Thea." Wren let out a shuddering sigh out, and Thea was staring at her in shock. Besides the absurdity of an idea of a Dwarf being attractive, Thea had never thought she would see the enamoured dazed expression on her friend's shrewd face. Wren seemed almost giddy, and then she jumped off the bed, rushed to her desk and pulled out a parchment. Wren drew, Thea knew of it, but arts and crafts interested Thea little. The portrait she was currently having shoved under her nose was worth her attention though.

"Wren, I do not dispute your craft, but surely that is an exaggeration..." Thea gave the man depicted a dubious look. A straight prominent nose, piercing eyes under thick brows, long wavy hair, stubborn expression, he was gorgeous!

Wren suddenly started laughing and fell back on her bed, pressing her hands to her chest, "Oh Thea, and I will tell you I hardly paid him justice in this sketch. I drew from memory, and then he came into the infirmary, and I thought I would faint… He is so..." Slender arms flew in the air, and she vaguely gestured something wide and impressive in the air. Thea was trying to agree her previous prejudices with the face on the picture.

"Alright, Wren, and what happened in the closet?" Wren covered her face with hands and snorted into them.

"I jumped at him." Her voice was muffled, and Thea wondered if she misheard.

"What?"

"I jumped at him and just… I could not get enough, he is a glorious kisser. And he is scorching, Thea, their flesh is harder and hotter than of men." Disgust and heady arousal were fighting in Thea's mind, and for the first time in her life she decided to aim for a safer subject of a conversation.

"Alright, Wren what else is there to pack?"

Wren kept silent for a bit, her mind still probably on the events of the day, and then she sat up and her face was once again sober and calm. They discussed the trunk, almost nothing of Wren's current belongings was to go with her, they spend another hour deciding what Thea was to do with them, some were to be given out to friends, some to be taken to the infirmary, to offer to the needing. Wren pulled out a coin pouch, they started counting, some of the silver was to be paid for her room, but most of her expenses were taken care of, she was endlessly shrewd in her expenses.

After everything was seemingly taken care of, they returned on the bed and started once again rummaging through Wren's hidden treasures. Thea was holding a small velvet doublet in her hands, white fur collar and buttons made of mother-of-pearls, flirty and perfectly fitted for Wren's small frame, when she realised her friend was asleep. She was curled in a tiny ball among her odd white attires, small hands clenched in childish fists, and Thea suddenly had to bite into her hand to suppress a sob. She was losing her friend, and her heart was broken. No one would listen to her the way Wren would, without a judgment or a censure, no one was to spend a night dancing and laughing freely with her, and no one would ever make Thea feel as worthy as Wren could.

Thea got up and quickly folded the rest of the clothes in the trunk. She pulled the blanket over the sleeping redhead, put out the candle and left the room.