The caves were deep, although not as deep as you would expect. She knew them well. She visited them often when she was younger. They had pulled at her, enticing her to the darkest depths. She had always attributed it to her dwarvish blood calling out to her.
Asta was distracted. She continued to ruminate on Thranduil so much that she couldn't recall how long it had taken to get to the cells. A narrow stone staircase was lined on the left side with barred holes that had been burrowed out of the rock in a rough manner. The stench of sweat, bodily fluids and other such atrocities met her at the first stair. Thorin had been led down first, the stairs not wide enough to accommodate two bodies side by side; she waited until the other elf returned, all the while her excitement building. She could hear the voices of the dwarves. Thorin was recounting the conversation with Thranduil adding in a few colourful words in Dwarvish.
She could see that there were enough cells for each dwarf and despite this they had been crammed together in some cells. Bombur with Bifur and Bofur, plus her three brothers together. Kili, Fili, and Thorin in separate cells due to their royal blood. She hoped for privacy's sake she wouldn't have to share a cell. She was drained now, emotionally and physically. She hadn't slept in two days and the encounter with her old home was overwhelming. Soon her feet were shoved forward, and her heart beat faster. In the same way she had the night Gandalf had taken her sight, she out stretched her fingers, placing the tips on the bars, trailing slightly behind her. The chill from the metal sending renewed energy through her. The silence that came suddenly startled her from her trance, and she looked at them blankly.
"What's…" but the eruption that came from them drowned out any of her words. She let the smile come to her slowly. She had missed them greatly. When her guard pushed her on she managed to touch the hands of her friends briefly and even stopped a moment with her brothers.
"You're alright!"
"A bit stir crazy…" said Dori in his kindest way.
"And hungry!" yelled Bombur from his cell, to much haughty laughter.
She was nudged on and until she had reached Kili's cell she had faced little resistance to pausing. He looked relieved and pleased, with his hands wrapped around the bars.
"Well, you're a sight for sore eyes." He said between half a smile.
"Glad to see the imprisoning of our company has not discouraged you." She unabashedly flirted back.
She had been so busy making her comment at Kili that she had failed to see the concern on Fili's face as the exchange ensued. For he knew that Kili's heart was changing.
Kili had been indisposed before their capture, only to be recued by an elf maiden. She was tall, graceful and had stunning red hair. The elf maiden had come almost every night to seemingly check on the prisoners only to have conversation with his brother. Fili confronted him after one such exchange.
"You are being shameless with that elf." Fili mused through the biggest small hole between their cells.
"In what way?" Kili defended.
"Don't be daft. When Asta returns what then? When she too can see your fickle heart!" Fili attempted to keep his voice down only to hiss it through his teeth. He expected his brother to uphold his words. It was his honour.
"Nothing has changed. My heart still beats for her." Kili sounded like a wounded creature begging forgiveness. He wasn't even sure of it himself.
"Perhaps. Then you should be less friendly with our host, who has, shall I remind you, not fed us for three days."
Kili pouted slightly, "I don't know what use that would be."
Fili knew he couldn't prove it to his brother, so he would retreat but when Asta came and understood, Fili would have no part in saving his brother.
The others were not oblivious to Kili's growing relationship with the elven maiden, but in the moment, that thought was beyond them. Ori was wary, although not privy to the exact nature of Asta and Kili's relationship, he was filled with a kind of pain for her, that he hoped was pointless.
Thorin himself was conflicted. The conversation with Galadriel floated in his head. If her bond to Kili was severed, would she still want to live in Erebor? He felt his nephew was being dishonourable with her, so perhaps it was best for them not to be involved at all. Also he felt some relief at the prospect of romance not interfering with their task. Durin's day was fast approaching, and he could not afford anymore set backs. But if he was being honest with himself, his relief was due to more than the dissolving of his nephew's relationship to Asta. He worked mercilessly towards his goal, he could not afford a distraction. Let alone a distraction that was distracting his nephew. Besides, he would be damned if the Elven Queen was right.
Asta was settled in the farthest cell, next to Thorin. It was small, but a torch sat just outside her bars, so she would always have light. A bench of stone merged with the wall on the right. A latrine of sorts had been placed in the farthest corner on the left. Water trickled down the back wall into a small crack in the rock floor, flowing into Thorin's cell. There was also a sizable hole in the wall shared with Thorin, so at least conversation could be had, but one could not fit themselves through.
Questions were being thrown from each cell to both Asta and Thorin, it was chaos of the best kind. Her weeks of late had been so emotionally and physically demanding, it was recharging to be with this rambunctious group. They answered questions until the Elves came to silence their revelry.
Once they had settled, Asta leaned against the wall shared with Thorin. She didn't dare look in, but rather stared at her own feet. She crossed her arms feeling the chill, despite her new clothes.
"My Lord, are all the company accounted for?"
"Every Dwarf." He said solemnly before coming to the wall, also not daring to look inside. As a king he needed to be prepared to give bad news, and he always believed in honour and truth. Still, his voice was low, not only to avoid the sharp ears of an elf, but for himself as well. "We don't know what happened to Bilbo." And he started telling her of what had happened since their departure. When all was said, she felt no better or worse for it.
"Thank you, I'm sure Bilbo is fine. He isn't the same Hobbit who left The Shire."
Thorin smiled, "I don't think any of us are the same. Least of all you." He had admired her tenacity and determination but since her defiance of Thranduil there was something new, something like pride.
Asta lay down on her bench and asked, "How are we going to get out of here?" and for once, Thorin had no answer. She waited in silence, hearing the dripping of water on rock, until she heard it in all its subtlety and smallness, as if coming from the wind and not at all from a Dwarf King's mouth, "I don't know."
Thorin was never unsure. He was the King Under the Mountain. He was confident and unbreaking in his resolve. Where had his confidence gone?
She chanced a glance into his cell. Thorin's cell was similar to hers and although she couldn't see it all, she saw all she needed to. Thorin's back was against the wall, close to the hole. His head was right there, close enough for her to see each strand of hair. Although the streaks of silver had dimmed and the black hairs started to look grey, he still had a royal feeling about him. It was pushed back from his forehead as he always had it, wavy curls had fallen out of braids due to the conditions of his arrest. Who knew how much longer they would be slave to the will of Thranduil.
She put her fingers through the crack, latching them along the sharp lower edge. She gripped tightly, but not tight enough to tear through her flesh. "Thorin." She breathed it out hoping there was no pity in it.
Thorin realizing how close she had come turned his head slightly. He felt defeated, and like the hope he once had of reaching Erebor was lost. But her arrival had given him hope yet. He looked at her hands, and how clean they were despite the time she had been in the forest and travelling. For the first time he noticed how black her eyelashes were despite her unusually bright hair.
"Don't lose faith, Thorin. Bilbo will come, and if not… then I can concede to Thranduil."
"No." he said firmly turning to face her completely now. "I could not ask that of you. You have given enough." He looked to the scars on her cheeks, never to fade he imagined.
"I would gladly do it to see you reclaim your kingdom."
"It won't be only my kingdom. It belongs to all dwarves."
She smiled. He would be a great king, and although she knew she could not stay there, her heart longed for it, just to see it in all it's glory with Thorin at the helm.
"It can be yours too, you know."
"I don't think it is possible."
"I spoke to the Elf Queen. She will grant you pardon if you truly want to stay in Erebor."
It was silent for a moment; the air was full of questions, disbelief, and confusion. "…how…?"
"I made a deal."
She looked into his eyes, her heart sinking in her chest, making it seem hollow and deep. This was too much. This was more than she could ask for.
"It's your choice, Asta. When the time comes." It was the first time he had said her name to her.
Perhaps it was the lack of sleep, but something in her warmed her entire body when he said it. She had been accepted by him.
Everyday was a longer more excruciating version of the last. The drips of water no longer a symphony and now more a cacophonic annoyance. They tried to stay sane, a song that was soon quenched by guards, a simple conversation at the wrong time was shut down by slapping a stick against the bars. It was made all the more agonizing for Asta when Tauriel came to visit.
Not many elves had hair the colour of autumn leaves. Not many elves of common blood had the face of a noble. When Asta first met her, she was sweetly, albeit not overly friendly. She was not a member of the royal family and therefore not wholesomely a part of Asta's life.
She stopped a few cells before Asta's. Sometimes Asta hoped to glimpse the yellow crown of hair that often accompanied Tauriel, but he never came. Still, Asta perked her ears and waited for his voice.
"The stone in your hand, what is it?" she said with softness unlike a guard; which was strange to Asta.
"It is a talisman."
'Kili?' Asta thought.
"A powerful spell lies upon it, if any but a dwarf reads the runes on this stone…they will be forever cursed…" A silence fell for a brief moment, "Or not. Depending on whether you believe in that sort of thing. It's just a token."
Kili laid out a story that as it unfolded told Asta another. He spoke with sincerity and intimacy and without the tone of pity she had been afforded. She had seen many romances in her life, successful and less so. She wasn't angry, there was no power left in her for that. All of her muscles seemed to fall away, her strength gone in an instant. She knew that dwarves only loved once in their lives, their species was not capable of more than that; despite the long life they lived. She had the gall to believe that she was his, but now, she knew she wasn't the one.
She let her hands slip from the bars, and drifted to the back of her cell to the small trickle of water and set her forehead into it. Any tears that fell would be indiscernible from the spring water. If they would fall at all. She was disappointed but not at any one person. She could not blame him, or her.
They spoke for a long time, although Asta never knew it. She had let her mind take her, connecting to the forest for a long time. Long enough that Thorin had stopped calling her name.
As the starlight of the great festival, Mereth Nuin Gilath, came cascading down into the dreary and wet place she arose and went to the cell door, to look up as best she could. The dwarves seemed drawn to it much the same as she saw many fingers on rounded bars.
A small and weak voice came from the silent caverns "We're never going to reach the mountain, are we?" a youth in despair.
"Not stuck in here you're not."
He looked put out, as a hobbit often does when doing great heroic deeds, but he smiled and his voice was clear and sure. He was looking right at her, and finally, at last, the hope returned to them all.
"The guards are asleep, we must hurry!"