Disclaimer: I don't own the Hobbit or associated media.

Chapter 17: Not a Cry for Pity

"Pity may represent little more than the impersonal concern which prompts the mailing of a check, but true sympathy is the personal concern which demands the giving of one's soul."

—Martin Luther King, Jr.

From his place at Beorn's table, Thorin was the first to see Gemma LaRoche stumble into the dining area. He had decided to let her sleep that morning when he woke. After all, she had had a terrible night. Now he regretted it, as she had not been present during their precarious meeting with the skin changer. He hoped she would not startle Beorn, especially after they had just gained his somewhat-begrudging aid.

Her yawn alerted the whole group to her presence, and Thorin saw Beorn's huge form tense. "Morning," she said, rubbing sleep from her eyes and finally looking up to see the skin changer towering over her. Thorin would have laughed if he hadn't been so worried that she would be ripped to shreds; Gemma LaRoche had never seemed small until now, standing next to Beorn's giant form. "Oh, hi, you must be Beorn. I'm Gemma," she said with a saccharine smile, holding out her hand to him. Beorn did not accept it.

Instead, he said to Gandalf, "You did not tell me you were also travelling with a woman. Who else are you hiding?"

"Oh, no no no, it's just me. Honestly, this lot seems to forget about me all the time. Dwarves. I must have overslept. Anyway, it is a pleasure to meet you, and thank you for letting us stay in your beautiful home." Gemma gave him a winning smile, and Thorin marvelled at how calm and convincing she could be. She seemed to know exactly what to say, which was funny, because she had done nothing right when she first met all of them. Though, she had just travelled to another world at that point, so he couldn't have expected her to be on top of her game. Still, Thorin wondered if things between them would have been different if their first impression had been coated with LaRoche charm. Probably not, he mused. Their personalities clashed too much; they were destined to bicker and disagree.

Beorn seemed to melt, and leant down to kiss her hand, which made Gemma smile even harder. She really was a master of making people like her, which was evident when Beorn announced, "I like this one. You should have introduced her first. I would have offered my help sooner."

Gemma was given a seat between Gandalf and Beorn, joining in on their breakfast. Thorin watched her closely. He liked how she looked when she smiled and conversed. She was currently caught up in an animated conversation with Beorn, about bees, of all things. "You know, where I come from, the bees are dying off. There are these diseases and parasites and all these problems that are killing the poor creatures in hoards. And did you know it's estimated that if the bees go extinct, mankind would only live for four more years?" Thorin stopped listening to the conversation, choosing instead to just watch how her hair fell across her cheek every so often, and Gemma would unconsciously brush it behind her ear.

Gandalf told the group that they would stay the day, and leave at sunset. They would be safe as long as they stayed on Beorn's land. Soon the Company was outside in the spacious courtyard, and the dwarves decided to practice sword fighting. Thorin jumped in occasionally, but any duel with him was over quickly, so he mostly just watched. It was nearly an hour later when he noticed that Gemma had slipped away.

Thorin decided to look for her. He was worried that last night had changed things between them. They had finally started to get along, but this morning it seemed as though she was pulling away from him again. They had not said a word to each other during breakfast. In some ways, Thorin understood; she had revealed a difficult part of herself to him, and she was probably afraid that he would look at her differently, as though she were weak. It seems that, above all else, Gemma LaRoche did not want people to see her as weak. But Thorin did not. Although, things had changed between them in some way; he felt closer to her, almost like they shared a connection through this secret. Thorin found himself wanting to speak to her more, wanting to see her all the time. Whenever she was around, he felt drawn to her. Wasn't that why he was looking for her now?

He didn't really know where to look, but eventually found himself under the cover of the trees at the edge of the forest. A tiny stream ran just within the treeline, and Thorin followed it.

"Thorin!" She noticed him only a moment after he saw her. She was sitting on the bank of the river, clothes discarded to her side, though now she clutched her jacket to her front. "What are you doing?! Turn around!" He complied, though part of him, just a small part, told him not to, wondered what would happen if he didn't. But he was a gentleman.

"Okay, you can turn back now, I'm decent," Gemma called. Thorin wasn't sure that was true; when he turned around, she was wearing those rough pants she called "jeans" and a tiny, tight white shirt that had no sleeves, leaving her shoulders bare and exposing her upper chest. Thorin felt his cheeks redden and almost looked away again, but Gemma didn't seem to notice, and that little voice in his head had grown a bit louder. He sat down beside her instead. "Are the dwarves finished sparring?"

"No, but I thought I'd come look for you. I cannot join in anyway, as it would not be much of a fair fight." Thorin replied.

"Oh, and he's modest too!" Gemma laughed, giving him a light punch on the arm.

"I only speak the truth," Thorin jested back, laughing as well.

"Maybe you could teach me sometime. And I could teach you how to shoot. I might even let you fire a real bullet," she winked.

"Yes, perhaps when this is over, if you have not yet gone home." They both grew silent at that, and Thorin found himself wishing that she would not go home. He could see the moonstone necklace resting against her collarbone; it was almost completely glowing, signalling that she could soon be transported back home.

Thorin's gaze drifted slightly, to a mark on her chest. Actually, in this revealing shirt, he could see several burn scars, and could tell that more were hidden beneath the hemline of material. "Hey, my eyes are up here, buddy," Gemma laughed.

"Are those…" Thorin couldn't bring himself to ask, but she understood.

"Yeah." Gemma looked away, kicking at the dirt. She looked sad, ashamed. "Horrible, I know."

"No, not at all. What happened to you was horrific, but those scars are a reminder that you made it through. You endured. We dwarves take pride in our scars; we wear them with honour, as a symbol of our strength."

Gemma looked him in the eye, and there was something behind those forest green eyes that held his gaze in an unbreakable grip. "That's beautiful. Thank you Thorin," she said quietly. Thorin noticed how close they were. If he were to lean in, their faces might meet. He had the overwhelming urge to do so, and…

"WAHOOO!" A splash followed the yell as a body entered the river feet away, followed by several more. The rest of the Company had found the water as well.

"Oh, hullo Uncle, hullo Gemma. Care to join us for a dip?" Kili called, splashing his brother in the process.

Gemma leaned over and whispered in Thorin's ear, "Are they… naked?"

"Yes. Yes, I believe so," Thorin replied, feeling thoroughly embarrassed by his kin.

"Well, I think that's my cue. You boys have fun," Gemma called, gathering her things and standing to leave. Thorin stood too.

"I think I shall leave as well. One can only stand so much of my idiotic brethren."

They began to walk back towards Beorn's house. "Let's find Gandalf, Beorn, and Bilbo. I've been meaning to carry on my conversation from breakfast with them. Beorn is absolutely fascinating to talk to," Gemma said.

"Really? I thought you were simply talking about bees."

"Eavesdropping, were we? Bees are actually an interesting topic. Don't laugh, but remember when I said I wanted to be a lawyer before I ended up joining the Bureau? Most people assume I wanted to be a prosecutor or a criminal lawyer, you know, because of the work I do now, but actually I had my heart set on environmental law, saving the planet from the big corporate pollution machines." Gemma laughed, "I guess I was just never meant to be a tree hugger, but sometimes I like to wonder what it would be like if I had continued that path." Thorin didn't really know what she was talking about, and told her as much. Gemma just chuckled.

The pair entered the cottage, but Gandalf, Bilbo, and Beorn were not inside. Gemma found some ale in the pantry and they suggested they sit outside instead. They found a bench by the door and sat down, sipping their drinks.

"The weather seems uncommonly warm," Gemma commented after an awkward pause.

Thorin nodded. "It will probably drop soon. I expect the winter chill will arrive in a few weeks, perhaps even some snowfall once we're past Mirkwood forest." Gemma nodded and they continued to drink in silence. Thorin's mind drifted to that moment by the river minutes ago. He wondered what would have happened in the others hadn't arrived.

"So, tell me about yourself." Gemma's voice snapped him from his musings.

"What is there to tell? You know of my story, Balin has told you."

"No, no, I mean tell me about you. We've spent all this time travelling together, and now you know my secret, but I don't know you. Like, what's your favourite colour, or food, or something."

Thorin found it a bit silly, but he decided to indulge her. He had never really thought about his favourite colour, but after contemplation, he said, "Green. And… hmm… plum pudding, like the royal cooks in Erebor used to make in the winter time. And you?" He found himself wanting to know the same things from Gemma, useless information though it was.

"My favourite colour is definitely red. But no orangey-red, like a deep cranberry colour, the colour of these red velvet cupcakes that I always buy when I need a pick-me-up from this little Italian bakery on my street. Mmm, now I want cupcakes. I guess those are probably my favourite thing to eat. Actually no, the lasagna from that bakery is my favourite. It's heavenly."

Thorin didn't know what lasagna was, so he asked, and Gemma explained to him in mouth-watering detail the wonders of Italian food. Soon their conversation drifted, and time seemed to rush by.

Gemma was touched by the way Thorin was handling all of this, after divulging her past to him. Incredibly touched, so much so that she almost felt like crying. It was a lot to take in, she knew, but he somehow knew how to act. The way people reacted after was always the worst part of it. Gemma didn't want the pitying looks, the way they suddenly treated her like she was a little more fragile, the rift that always formed and the way it left her feeling more alone than ever. Yet none of that happened, and they'd fallen into easy conversation, almost as if they were actually closer now. She was relieved that it hadn't happened with Thorin, but she was worried it would happen if, no when, she told the Company.

Only she really didn't want to struggle through all that again, despite the fact that the others deserved to know.

"Thorin?" Should she ask him? She was being a coward and she knew it, but dammit, she was pretty sure her throat would close up if she tried to say it all again. She didn't really understand how she had even been able to tell Thorin. "Will you... I don't if I can... would you explain my... um... story to the others? I just..."

Thorin held up a hand to interrupt, and said, "I will tell them if that is what you wish. I know that it was difficult for you to say aloud. I understand."

Gemma sighed, a weight lifted off her shoulders. At least she wouldn't have to say it again. "Just... not the details. Tell them enough to make them understand, but no more. The details stay between us. Please."

Thorin simply nodded.

Soon evening fell, and after dinner Beorn left to tend to his horses and patrol the border. The Company collected in the living area by the large hearth, some pulling out their pipes, others falling into deep conversation. Despite what to them must seem like another mood swing, though this time for the better, worried glances were still cast Gemma's way occasionally. After a week of this, it had become habit more than anything.

Gemma caught Thorin's eye and he gave her a brief nod. He would tell them now. Gemma tilted her head towards the door, signalling that she would leave. She did not want to be there to see the Company's reaction. Courage be damned when it came to things like this.

Gemma left the room, but paused in the hallway. She shouldn't have listened, but she did. Thorin's deep voice spoke softly, but he was direct, straight to the point. Like she asked, he did not go into many details. She was captured by enemies, she was tortured, and now she was haunted by the memories and held a terrible fear of fire, the cause of her reaction during the pine ridge battle and her subsequent withdrawal and foul mood. That was it. Gemma wished she could have been so concise and business-like about the whole thing. She sat in the hallway and listened to the murmurs of the Company as they wrapped their head around what she knew was a difficult idea to accept.

Gemma only left the hallway once she realised that she was shaking; maybe out of fear for what the others would think, maybe out of pain as those memories were once again brought to the surface. She left the house and sat outside, on the tree stump on which Beorn had been chopping wood earlier. If she squinted, Gemma could make out the outline of the skin changer, in his great bear form, guarding his borders just within the tree line, keeping the orcs and wargs at bay.

Gemma sat back and looked up to the sky. It was one of her favourite things about Middle Earth; the dark expanse was sprayed with millions upon millions of stars, unlike the near-blank night of a smog-covered D.C. There were even more stars visible here than there had been at the cottage in the Laurentian Mountains that she and her father used to rent. And yet the sky was unfamiliar. Gemma was no astronomy expert—she'd never really been interested in anything so impractical—but she was certain that the stars that peppered Middle Earth's night were entirely different from the stars back home. In all likelihood, even the moon was a different one. Looking up at the night sky like this, Gemma had never felt farther away from her world. She couldn't decide if that was saddening, or strangely comforting.

Gemma slipped back inside a little while later, when the night's chill finally began to bother her. The Company was still in the living area, smoking their pipes and chatting quietly. There was a sombre mood hanging about the room, and Gemma hated it. She did not want the pity that she was certain would come.

"You know, smoking is going to ruin your lungs," she said softly. The others finally noticed her return and a hush fell about the room.

Then, all at once, she was mobbed by dwarves, wrapped in an embrace that threatened to squeeze the air from her lungs. This was not what she had expected.

"Gemma, my dear, I feel I should apologize," Gandalf said when she finally emerged from the mob, "I had no idea my fire would cause you to experience such terrible memories."

Gemma shook her head, and stepped towards the wizard, wrapping him in her own embrace. "How could you have? It's no one's fault but my own."

"Now that's just ridiculous," Bofur piped up. "How could any of that be your fault?" The others all nodded.

And finally, after more than a week of night terrors and melancholy, Gemma's face broke into a wide grin, a happy grin, because, looking around the room at the Company members, she saw worry and caring and friendship, but she did not see a single shred of pity in their eyes. She saw only the love of her companions, the connection she shared with them.

The smile broke the tension, and soon Fili and Kili were steering the subject of conversation towards more pleasant things. Gemma sat down and the Company all moved in closer to her, surrounding her with unspoken support. Bilbo sat down next to Gemma and handed her a mug of tea with milk and honey, which she gratefully accepted. He gave her a companionable nudge with his shoulder. She smiled slightly and bumped him back.

This was nice, she thought. After being on her own for so long, Gemma had a big beautiful family.

Finally, it was time to depart. Beorn gave them ponies to ride to Mirkwood's edge, and they all thanked him greatly for his kindness. Beorn's only reply was a grunt of acknowledgment, but he returned the quick smile that Gemma gave him. Thorin was still weary of the man, but if they had gained him as something of an ally, then that was quite the feat. Beorn, the last skin changer, was certainly a good ally to have.

Gemma needed some help with her horse at first, but after Kili and Fili provided careful instruction, she was able to control the animal with sufficient skill. At least, she could get it to move when she told it to, and didn't seem like she was going to fall off, and that was all that really mattered. After all, they only needed to get to the forest. Thorin wondered, not for the first time, what her world must be like, where riding was not a primary means of transport or a necessary skill.

As they left, Thorin found himself feeling happier than he had felt in a long time, despite the journey and hardships that still lay ahead. Gemma LaRoche certainly was a captivating being. Thorin only hoped that they could continue to get along, because, despite what she had told him earlier, Thorin felt that maybe they really were becoming friends.

AN:

There were a few sad and profound moments in there, but it's starting to get back to that normal bouncy rhythm of the earlier chapters. I'm going to make it up to you for the seriousness of the last few chapters. That means more jokes and nicknames, plus some actually significant progress in terms of the romance! No more of this teasing!

Speaking of last chapter, I realized I made a mistake in it. When I was writing the chapter I couldn't think of a suitably ridiculous name for the fake boyfriend Gemma told her therapist about, so I left it blank, and ended up forgetting to go back and add it in! I've fixed this now, so Gemma claimed to her therapist that she was dating a man named Fabio. I can't resist having at least one joke in each chapter, even in heavy ones like the last.

Thank you all again for reviewing. I'm sorry updates are a little bit slower now, but it's been a busy few weeks, and it will probably continue as such for a while. Plus, I need to keep writing the rest of this story. I only have ten chapters left on reserve. To my wonderful guest reviewers, who apparently check daily for updates, you guys are awesome and I wish I could contact you to personally say thank you as well. Updates will probably be on more of a consistent weekly schedule from now on, probably Fridays or Saturdays.

It's really cold here, and the heating broke in my school building on Monday. Thankfully it was fixed quickly, but I mean, come on! Reviews keep me warm ;)