18: Amongst the Waves

"So this is all you do here? Train?"

While Kíli had gone off to demonstrate his skills with the blade, Tauriel had lingered by the shooting range, opting to fall into step beside Nesrin. The brunette struck her as someone who appreciated it if someone got straight to the point, and so that was precisely what she did.

For her frankness, she was rewarded with a small smile from her companion as well as an assessing glance. "You do not look like someone who underestimates the worth of a rigorous training practice. But no, it is not all we are required to do. In the afternoons, when the tide is in, we usually work up in the armory. And on occasion some of us are brought down to train with the younger members of the guard." She jerked her head towards where Kíli and his opponent had taken up their stance by now and were circling each other with their swords raised in front of their bodies, prepared to strike at the first sign of weakness. "Olov and his brother usually take over the sword fighting lessons. Naima and I take turns with hand to hand combat. And I expect you and your companion will be expected to share your knowledge about archery before too long."

Tauriel suppressed a wince at the first name on Nesrin's list. Going up against the best swordsman did not exactly bode well for Kíli, but then again, who knew what sort of tricks he had up his sleeve. After all, it wouldn't be the first time he surprised his audience—or her, for that matter.

Pushing her concerns over Kíli's well-being aside for now, she sat down beside Nesrin on the sun-warmed sand. "And what will our captors do with that knowledge?"

She already knew the answer to that, of course, but wanted to see how far she might push Nesrin. As it was, the woman merely laughed.

"Well, what do you expect? The same thing they will do with all those weapons we are making and those skills we are refining for them."

"Use them to go to war," Tauriel supplied grimly. She turned to face her companion. "And that does not bother you? I may be mistaken, but I was under the impression that none of you come from this place. Like Kíli and I, you were brought here from somewhere else, were you not? Does it not feel. . . wrong to help those people go to war against the rest of the world? Against our world?"

This time, Nesrin didn't laugh. "That world you think so highly of—it has never shown me the least bit of kindness. I do not owe it anything. Neither my allegiance nor my skill."

Tauriel studied Nesrin, her eyes skimming over the scars on her face. There was a story there, more than one, probably, but it was for Nesrin to tell in her own time if she chose to do so. Now, here, this was about something else, about all of them and their purpose on the island. "But Gansukh and his men are deserving of your loyalty?" she asked Nesrin in a quiet voice.

She had to wait a while for her answer, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore and the clatter of swords behind them filling the silence. Distractedly, Tauriel dug her bare toes into the sand, thinking about how not having any shoes to wear suddenly didn't seem quite so bad anymore.

Eventually, Nesrin sighed. "I am not as dishonorable as to not know that it isn't right what we're doing here. But. . . this is the first place I've felt somewhat safe for as long as I can remember. And if I have to turn a blind eye to some of the more far-reaching implications of what we are all working towards, then so be it. Not everyone can be a hero."

That last bit was said with a sly, sideways glance at Tauriel, who scoffed. "I am no hero, I can assure you. A fool, perhaps, on occasion, but not a hero."

She was thinking with some remorse about how her last grand heroic effort had landed her in more trouble than she had bargained for.

Nesrin dusted her hands off on her trouser legs and heaved herself off the ground. She turned and held a hand out to Tauriel, who took it and let herself be pulled to her feet.

"I know your type," she said. "When things get bad, there is no way you are simply going to sit back and watch them unfold. Always jumping right into the fray. But that's alright. . . you do what you've got to do. Just try not to drag anyone else into it who has already made their choice." For a moment, Nesrin's fingers tightened around Tauriel's almost painfully, emphasizing her point. Then she smiled and stepped back. "Back to work it is then, I'd say. The tide will be in soon, and I'd still like to get a turn against that Dwarf of yours."

Swallowing her reflexive protest over having Kíli labelled as hers (for who was she kidding, really?), Tauriel hurried to fall into step beside Nesrin as she began to make her way over to the sword fighters. Kíli, she now saw, was still holding his own against Olov. From the look of things, he appeared to be enjoying himself, even, as he twirled first this way then that, his blade glinting in the sunlight.

"So we stay down here until the tide comes in? All by ourselves?"

She had been glancing at the sea while she spoke, wondering how feasible it would be to swim out there, leave the little bay and see if maybe a boat or another sort of vessel wasn't anchored to a beach nearby. Today it was probably too late to attempt it with the tide on its way already, but perhaps they could try tomorrow?

"Forget about that," Nesrin advised sharply, interpreting her calculating gaze correctly.

"Why? The current doesn't strike me as very strong and I can swim for a long period of time."

Nesrin huffed, muttered something under her breath, and abruptly changed course, heading back towards the water. Without stopping, she bent down and picked up a piece of driftwood, hurling it out into the sea with an unusual amount of force for such a short woman. Before Tauriel had the opportunity to admire the skill behind the throw, something long and slimy shot out of the waves, snatched the missile out of the air and disappeared among the waves once more.

"That's why." Nesrin stood with her hands braced on her hips, apparently quite satisfied with the outcome of her little demonstration.

"What in Durin's name was that?"

Without Tauriel noticing, Kíli had come up behind them and was gaping at the open sea with about the same amount of bewilderment which Tauriel currently experienced.

"Something you do not want to encounter all by yourself in open water," Nesrin replied blankly. "No matter how splendid a swimmer you are." And with that she turned her back on Kíli and Tauriel still standing there side by side, their confusion by no means alleviated by this explanation. "Take five minutes to recover your strength, Dwarf, and then I expect you back up there with a blade in hand," she called over her shoulder.

Kíli's answering smile had a faintly horrified tinge to it, but he did nod his acquiescence. Once Nesrin was out of earshot, he turned back to Tauriel, his fingers lightly grazing her waist as he reached for her. "Are you alright?"

The concern in his voice was evident. Had he been anyone else, she would have felt patronized by his worry, but he wasn't and so she didn't.

"Other than the fact that I just learned that some sort of giant sea creature is lying in wait just a few paces away from us, I am perfectly fine, thank you." She brushed his hair aside with her fingertips where it had fallen into his face, revealing a fresh bruise on his temple. "I could ask you the same thing, though."

Kíli grinned, then winced when moving his face apparently caused his little souvenir from his fight with Olov to sting. "It's nothing, really. Had to let him get at least a few hits in, didn't I?"

"So you are saying you let him win? That does not quite sound like you."

"Who said I lost?" Kíli laughed, more carefree than she had seen him in a long while. "We called it a draw, to be decided at a later point in time. I suspect Olov just wants more time to figure out how he can cheat. Reminds me a bit of my cousin Bofur, once you look beyond that troll-like exterior."

Tauriel laughed and swatted his arm at his (unfortunately rather apt) description of the bulky man, who had not been favored with great beauty. "It is good that you are keeping busy, though. As far as I was able to draw it out of Nesrin, engaging each other in sparring matches constitutes a considerable part of our tasks here."

"Well, as long as it isn't 'engage each other in fights to the death', I count that as an improvement of our situation."

"Indeed." Tauriel smiled grimly. "Although I would be reluctant to count our chickens before they are hatched. Nesrin did not say it, but this—" she waved her hands around the beach, "—can hardly be all there is to it. That would be far too easy."

Kíli glanced over his shoulder at the group gathered further up the beach. "I agree. Do you think we can trust them, though?"

Tauriel weighed her answer for a bit. "As far as to not murder us in our sleep? I think so, yes. But beyond that. . . I suppose we will have to wait and see. We should not count on them to help us escape, though. Nesrin has no intention of going anywhere anytime soon, and I have a feeling that where she leads, the rest of them will follow. Either way, it won't do any harm for you to do a bit of sparring with them. None that you don't bring upon yourself, anyway."

Kíli grinned. "Maybe you should be up there, with a blade in hand. Show us amateurs how it's done."

"I might, in a little while." Tauriel had never been able to resist a bit of a challenge. And if it was accompanied by such a cheeky, provoking grin. . . Well, as she had just stated herself, there wasn't much else to do.

And so they joined the rest of the group, not quite the outsiders anymore they had been just that same morning. They kept at it until well after midday, revealing some of their companions' strengths as well as their weaknesses in the process.

Olov and his brother Oleg, to no one's surprise, mostly relied on their considerable brawn. They were, however, also astoundingly light on their feet. The key to winning against them, as Tauriel discovered when she went up against the both of them in a sword fight, was to make them lose their balance. Once they lost their footing, there was no recovering, and they went down with no chance of getting up again before she disarmed them both.

Nesrin, meanwhile, was as skilled as she was ruthless in hand-to-hand combat, but a lousy shot. Naima, with her dark curls and deceptively soft, honey-colored eyes, was a dangerous wrestler as well, though in contrast to Nesrin, she relied on agility rather than brute force and clever tricks.

Timon, whom Nesrin had been patching up this morning and who rarely left her side for a longer stretch of time, was the only one who could measure up to Kíli and Tauriel during target practice, though he preferred the spear to bow and arrow.

The rest of the group were all decent fighters as well, each of them clearly with some sort of experience stemming either from organized training or the often violent circumstances of a hard life. After the doubts which Tauriel had voiced during her conversation with Nesrin over the integrity of what they were doing here, she would not have though it possible to lose herself in her training to such an extent that she did not even notice the tide come in until the water was almost lapping at her ankles already.

"Alright, time to go. Get moving or go for a swim!"

Nesrin's throaty voice echoed over the beach and everyone sprung into action immediately. With well-practiced efficiency, weapons and equipment were packed up and hauled to the entrance of the tunnel which Kíli and Tauriel had used to access the beach earlier. Then, with soldier-like discipline, they all passed through the tunnel and up the steps in single file, stopping at the gate at the top only for as long as it took for the guard appearing on the other side to open it.

By the time she stepped through the gate and into the blinding sunlight beyond, Tauriel could hear the gurgling of water inside the tunnel, growing louder and louder by the second.

"What would happen if the guard were late?" she asked Timon, who had exited the tunnel behind her.

He frowned at the strangeness of her question. "Nothing good, I assume. The water doesn't rise all the way to the gate, but I am not sure all of us would fit into the bit that does not succumb to the tide. Let us hope we will never have to find out."

Tauriel nodded her agreement, but as they were led along the wall and back in the direction of the main house, she could not help but glance back towards the gate in the wall, which looked so innocent from this far away. What a strange place she had come to, locked away on a beach which was flooded for the rest of the day and some sort of tentacled monster floating around right in front of it. If that was what she was presented with during her first half day here, what other oddities might await her still?

Not that many, it turned out, or at least none she was confronted with on her first day as a member of Gansukh's household. The rest of the day passed rather quietly and without any new strangeness. After a simple, yet filling meal, they were, as Nesrin had predicted, led to the armory, where they spent the afternoon sharpening blades, making arrows, mending armor, and other such tasks.

It was simple work, and yet Tauriel found it oddly satisfying to be able to keep busy after so many weeks of nothing else to do other than wait anxiously whom their captors would take next from their small, dark prison to fight in the arena.

When, at the end of the day, everyone gathered around Kíli to watch him forge a short, yet elegant blade, the unexpected appreciation of his craft causing a surprisingly self-conscious but obviously pleased smile to light up his face, Tauriel felt warm with content. She would not even have needed the hot bowl of soup which was waiting for them up in their quarters after yet another trip to the baths to be able to withdraw to bed feeling full and pleasantly tired from a long day of work.

All inhabitants of the loft were quiet as they went through their individual nighttime routines. Unlike in the morning, though, it wasn't a tense silence. It seemed that they had, somewhat grudgingly, accepted Tauriel and Kíli in their midst, their hostile attitude from earlier in the day having dissipated. It wasn't the same as it had been with Ingolf, Suri, and Ruari, and Tauriel suspected it would never be. But it was fine for now, as it gave them time and safety to consider their next move.

Today, though, it seemed that no escape plans would be made. A wide yawn split Kíli's face the moment they drew the heavy curtains shut behind them, and even Tauriel experienced a distinct pull towards the narrow straw mat at the far end of the improvised room. She supposed that was alright, though. They had managed to learn a few things about their new—hopefully temporary—home that day, but there were still many open questions to be answered before they could seriously consider a prison break. So perhaps, for tonight at least, they were permitted to rest.

Whereas the moon had lit up the sky during the previous night, bathing the loft in its pale glow, tonight there was no moon, no stars to lend them their light. Perhaps it would rain tomorrow. As soon as the last candle had been extinguished by their neighbors, they thus lay in almost complete darkness, the occasional cry of a bird from outside the only sound disturbing the silence.

Or no, not quite the only one. In the dark, Tauriel could hear the others move about, her ears capturing the rustle of fabric, the silky slide of skin on skin, the occasional muffled sigh. She lay stiffly on her back, her eyes fixed on the ceiling above, which she could barely make out in the black of night. Suddenly Kíli, who had curled up on his side on the mat next to hers, seemed impossibly far away and yet stiflingly close. It would be so easy to reach out to him, to curl her body around his, and give in to the temptation which listening to their neighbors had caused to surge hotly through her veins.

Was Kíli awake? And if he was, was he, too, listening? From the rhythm of his breaths, she thought that he was, but he did not roll over, did not reach out, and neither did she. Doing so would have felt too much like giving in, like giving up.

Taking a break to gather their strength was one thing. To lie here in the velveteen darkness and give into the demands of both their hearts and their bodies while they still had no clear idea how they would proceed from here, how they would be reunited with their friends and prove to them that their separation had not been an act of selfishness, but one of necessity, of love, even, would have felt too much like a betrayal.

And so Tauriel remained where she was, her heart beating inside her throat and her fingers digging into the hard mattress with her effort to stay still. It was much later, when everyone had at last gone to sleep, that Kíli did roll over in his sleep, his hand searching frantically until he found her and pulled her into his warm embrace.

Now, with the world asleep around her, she went willingly, turning onto her side and scooting back until they slotted together like two pieces of a puzzle, his knee pushing between hers and her head pillowed on his upper arm. A contented breath rushed out of her and she allowed her eyes to close.

The night would keep this little secret for her, for them.