Hello everyone!
I think that I am going to start updating every other Thursday since my partner is usually out every other Thursday so that gives me the whole evening to review the chapter I'm posting and make any edits before the post.
If you've read the original Child of Durin, I would love to hear from you about this chapter! I think the shift in my writing is pretty noticeable here, more so than the first two posted chapters. And, of course, if you are new you are also welcome to reach out. I am always open to feedback but do me a solid and be kind about it, I am only a hobby writer over here.
Enjoy!
The first thing Brili noticed when she woke that morning was how sore and puffy her eyes felt.
Keeping them closed was easier than forcing them open, so she didn't bother trying to. Instead, she sat up with a tired, remarkably raspy yawn as she stretched her arms and legs before wiggling her toes. When she realized that her toes were confined and unable to stretch to their full capacity, she finally opened her eyes.
Huh? Since when did she own a pink night dress?
Wait, she wasn't wearing a nightdress at all…
Her party dress!
Oh, for the love of Mahal, she was still wearing that blasted party dress! The finely woven silk was wrinkled and creased beyond repair, and there appeared to be a stain on the hem of her buckled shoes. No amount of trying to flatten the fabric against her thigh seemed to help. The wrinkles returned a moment later, mocking her and her desperate attempts to save the garment from the consequences of her mistreatment.
"Why the hell didn't I change before I went to bed? Mum is going to kill me," she groaned. "Damnit!"
Suddenly, her attempts to rescue the gown stopped, and her hands began to tremble.
Something had… happened… Her mother had done something dreadful last night that caused her eyes to burn with more unshed tears. Her sleep-addled mind couldn't quite put a finger on it until her eyes drifted to something glittering in the sunlight from her bedroom window. A locket that glistened as she lifted it from her still-made bed.
Raising a hand to her mouth, she choked back a sob as she withered miserably into her pillows. A proposal… a proposal to a man she had not known existed until the night before. With a snarl born of fear and heartbreak, she whipped the pendant across the room, watching it clatter against the stone wall. It remained intact, a testament to its proud dwarven craftsmanship.
There was a tentative knock on the door before a polite voice called out. "Your linens, Miss."
Oh no, she was far too old to fall for this trick.
It might have worked when she was a child, but no longer! If she opened that blasted door, there would most certainly be a maid there, but behind that maid, there would also be a whole entourage waiting to barge in. She would stay right where she was and not budge an inch. They could send as many maids as they liked, but she'd not be unlocking that door for anyone.
No, thank you very much.
She burrowed deeper into her pillows as the reality of her situation continued to sink in. Why on earth would her family do this to her? Had she not been a good daughter, sister, or niece? Did she not love her family with all her heart? All for what? To be tossed aside like this?
Well, she'd just see about that.
"M'lady? Are you alright?"
"No linens today," she snapped, disguising the tremble in her voice by clearing her throat. "I'll not be entertaining visitors today!"
After a hurried whisper from the attendant, a deeper voice—Uncle Thorin's, without a doubt—murmured something. The maid went in for a valiant third attempt. "But, Miss, I must insist that you let me in! Do you not want breakfast?"
Brili didn't even bother covering up her frenzied laugh. That surely had to be Thorin. No one else would try to talk a maid into bribing her with food. He would have to play much smarter than that to talk her out of this room. She unbuckled her shoes and chucked one at the door. She also quickly took note of any other nearby objects that she might be able to throw: a hairbrush, a jewelry box, an inkwell, and that bottle of perfume her mother gave her last year. That should be enough artillery to fend off this onslaught.
On second thought, she'd better not throw the bottle of perfume. It'll stink the whole room up.
The poor maid—who really wanted nothing to do with this whole thing, but she was not about to tell the famed dwarven prince "no" under any circumstances—let out a surprised squeak, and Brili had to bite back the sting of guilt; this was hardly the attendant at the door's fault.
Still, she was hardly going to let that girl in.
"What is for breakfast?" she asked, her stomach turning when she heard Thorin's low voice mumble a short reply.
Despite the tremble in her voice, the maid did her best to sound excited. "You're favorite, m'lady! Poached quail's eggs and a side of honey cakes!"
"Something is missing," Brili answered shortly. "Anything Thorin the Treacherous offers will surely come with a side of betrayal!"
She took her gilded jewelry box from her bedside and hurled it at the door. It cracked open, and precious baubles scattered across the floor by the door.
A fist crashed into the door with an almighty fury. "That's ENOUGH! OPEN THIS DOOR!"
If this was meant to intimidate her into relenting, it did the opposite. Her tantrum was now emboldened by her uncle's rage. She grabbed the inkwell and threw it at the door, where it shattered into pieces, dark liquid splattering across the floor, the scattered baubles and trinkets from her jewelry box, and her wall. Behind it, she released a gut-wrenching screech.
Something felt wrong after she'd screamed like her chest was too tight. She couldn't breathe in that ugly pink dress. Without questioning the consequences of her actions, she ripped the dress collar open, believing it would relieve her symptoms. It did nothing to help her, but tearing that dress felt damn good. When one destroyed gown wasn't enough to satisfy her, she moved on to another. Within a few minutes, she'd taken two other dresses off of their mannequins and torn them, too, as if the gowns were the ones that had arranged the engagement.
Brili could hear her mother sniffling softly once the commotion she'd started had finally died down. Her eyes narrowed with furious indignation. Her mother had known all day yesterday; not only had her mother known, but she had fully endorsed this. Dis had been so thrilled about practically selling her daughter to a complete stranger, and now she dared to cry like Brili was the one doing something wrong?
And her brothers? Well, they had to have known, she concluded. It was the only way to describe their peculiar behavior at supper. Fili was likely a part of the whole thing and Kili… Well, Kili had to have at least been aware of the plot against her. Fili told Kili everything: birds of a feather, the two of them.
She brushed a few more tears from her eyes, her fury giving way to more misery. This was her family . Why would they betray her like this?
"Brili," Thorin's voice was softer, quieter, probably because she was crying. He always caved in when she started crying, "Let us in, and we can explain this… I think you will find that—"
Brili cut him off. "Just go. Please leave me alone. I—I don't want breakfast." As if breakfast was really on the table.
She burrowed herself in her blankets without waiting to hear his reply, burying her head under the covers to block the rest of the world out and keep her misery to herself. The rest of the world refused to be locked away, however. Periodically throughout the day, various voices muttered outside of her locked chambers. The voices were always soft, just outside of earshot but ever present, a constant reminder that Brili was now a prisoner in her own home. She was being watched for any sign of movement.
By late afternoon, she came to a regrettable realization: she was hungry. Her whole life had been blessed by three meals daily (sometimes more if you counted dessert or the fruits she would steal from the orchards when she snuck outside) and plenty of fresh water. Now, likely for the first time in several years, she had foregone not one but two of those three meals. While she was far too distracted to think of such trivial matters, her stomach was not. (It was actually her stomach's primary concern.) It wasn't long before the smell from the kitchens had managed to seep through the crack in the door. If someone hadn't made honey cakes before, they were definitely doing so now.
She scoffed. If her uncle truly thought he could smoke her out with baked goods, he was sorely mistaken. She would sooner starve than leave this room.
"You are going to have to come out eventually," Kili's good-natured voice called out from the other side of her door. "Uncle isn't going to let you starve to death."
She sat up and stared at the door. It was uncanny how Kili often seemed to guess precisely what she was thinking. She snatched a jeweled bangle that had happened to roll by her bedside during one of her previous fits of anger and raised it, ready to fling it at a moment's notice.
"It's only me," Kili mollified, "no need to start throwing things."
"I'm not coming out," she warned after a long pause, placing the bracelet on her bedside table. It would be no fun to throw it if he expected it.
Kili scratched his back against the door. "Yeah, yeah, I think you have made that abundantly clear. Just making sure you're alive in there."
"Go away, Kili," she snapped, flopping back into her pillows. "Whatever you are planning, it won't work!"
"Who says I am planning something?"
Her heart sank, his playful banter hurting her more than she cared to admit. She adored both of her brothers fiercely. At one point, they were the only friends she had.
Fili had always been a constant protector and a shining example of how important family ties were to her family and her subjects. During their younger days, he was the first to suggest that the three siblings sneak past the confines of the mountain and explore the villages and forests beyond. It was also Fili who had insisted that he teach Brili to be able to use a sword, if only defensively. He was a good brother, and she certainly loved him. There was no doubting that, but Brili always had a key complaint…
Fili had always labored, and perhaps it was Uncle Thorin's fault, under the burden of being responsible for everything. He was Thorin's next in line, the future captain of the guard, the heir to the throne. Even though he was not Thorin's son, he took on the entire responsibility of being a king. So, as they grew older, Brili became one of his many responsibilities.
Kili was a different story, though. With Kili, there was no shortage of fun. He "wouldn't be inheriting jack shit," as he put it, so Kili often did precisely as he pleased. He was brash, playful, and about as arrogant to the ways of ruling as one could be. He and Brili would go on spectacular adventures right under their mother's nose. They were both all too happy to shirk whatever demands the royal life had placed upon them. Kili was her best friend and coconspirator.
It only made what he was a part of that much worse.
"You are always up to something," she argued, "and it won't work this time. I'm not leaving this room. You can't make me do this."
"Uncle has already suggested breaking the door down," he replied lazily. "Tell me, is all of this trouble worth it?"
"Trouble? Worth—? Do you not have any shame? Uncle is sending me away to marry a man I have never met!"
Kili's reply was flat and simple. "You're being dramatic."
Dramatic?!
"You're not being sold to some warlord. Bofur isn't a bad bloke."
Her hands clenched into fists and, put simply if looks could kill, the door would be dead. "I shouldn't be sold to anyone!"
"You're not being sold! I mean, Bri, you're a girl. This is what girls do. They get… ya' know… married and stuff."
This really couldn't be happening to her.
"And we all searched really hard to find someone you would be happy with. Uncle Thorin turned down more than half of the suitors based on their age alone. You should have seen the lot that tried. We wouldn't see you hitched with just anyone. Bofur is a —"
"Stop!" She slammed her hairbrush on the end table instead of throwing it at the door. "I don't ever want to speak about him again!"
"The point , Brili," he said over her, "is that this going to happen anyway. And since it was bound to happen, maybe you should look on the bright side."
She shook her head miserably; he'd known all this time and hadn't said a word of warning to her. He said nothing to prepare her for this.
Bright side? There was no bright side. None that she could see. Her family no longer wanted her, and now all she had left was to wilt in the shadow of a man she didn't and would never care to know. She'd forever be recast as the wife of Bofur.
Bofur… that name made her stomach feel like it was shriveling up or warping into thick knots. She'd sooner die than see herself married to that cur.
"I'm afraid…" she whispered. Funny, she hadn't intended to say that out loud… Although, now that she had admitted it, that thought became all-consuming, and she began to shudder again. "Kili, I… I don't understand why you would do this to me."
She waited for his response but was devastated to notice he didn't have one. Was this what fear really felt like? It suddenly dawned on her that this was the first time in her life that she was honestly petrified. After all, she had never had a reason to be afraid before. Her entire life, there had always been a brother or an uncle or a mother to care for her and relieve any fears she may have had.
Now, she was left with no one, staring down this unknown fate, and it all but broke her.
"Bri, let me in," Kili tried, pushing against the door like she'd undone the bolt hours ago, and the whole thing was just a prank on her part. "C'mon, let me at least see that you're all right."
She didn't want to do it. No, she was still angry, furious even, with him—all of them—over everything that had happened to her. But this time, when she heard his voice, she couldn't stop herself from crossing the room on wobbly knees and lifting the wooden bolt. It dropped with a loud thud. Emotionally and physically drained, she curled away from the door and buried her covered face into her knees.
Kili cocked his head from his spot against her door when a loud thud sounded behind it. He hadn't expected her to listen to anything he said, talk about a lucky break. He lifted himself up from his cross-legged position and stood there momentarily, reaching out to push the door.
This time, it gave way.
He first noticed the bits of fabric that littered the floor; every article of fine clothing she owned was torn up and thrown carelessly on the ground. One gown had even been thrown into the fireplace; there was no fire burning, so nothing was up in flames, but he was sure the soot wasn't doing the dress any favors.
Mum was going to kill her once she caught wind of this…
"Mahal," he breathed once he noticed her hunched on the ground. He wasted no time going to her side and pulling her into a hug, something he was sure would cheer her up. "C'mon, Bri, don't cry. It-it's really all right."
She wanted to push him away. She wanted to be angry and hate him for this, but she had no energy left; her eyes couldn't even produce any new tears. Nothing but a hollow, sour feeling lingered in her gut. She was even too exhausted to explain why she was so upset. Rather than trying to put words to the swirl of emotions gathering in her mind, she fell limp against him with nothing more than the occasional sniffle.
In the future, there would be no more of this. No more turning to her brothers in times of fear or doubt. She'd have to take care of herself from now on. She wanted to take this moment, the last moment she felt this safe, and bottle it up to save forever. The memory of this moment would be all she had left.
Kili pulled away after a while, but it still felt too short for Brili. "I'm supposed to get Fili and Uncle… Will you be all right for a few moments?"
She was not particularly concerned with the consequences her actions would undoubtedly bring, but that didn't change the fact that she didn't want to see either of them. She rather regretted her decision to unlock the door. "At least let me clean up."
Her voice was a hoarse, monotonous croak, a voice Kili didn't recognize.
He nodded, brushing a few strands of hair from her cheeks and plastering a familiar grin on his face for her sake. "I'll send a squadron of maids to your rescue."
She didn't smile but turned away from his playful jest with a tired sigh. To Kili, this was worse than when she was throwing things at them.
He sighed and finally lifted himself off the ground, looking at his little sister one last time before he left the room, stopping to pick up the wooden plank that kept the door shut and hoisting it over his shoulder. After mumbling some sort of apology as he took away her only line of defense, he stepped out of the room.
Alone again and with a heavier heart than before, she tried to think of things logically for the first time since the night before.
Either way that she looked at it, she would ultimately find herself ripped away from her family. With that painful realization set aside, she had only one vital question left to ask herself: what was her freedom worth to her? Could she live with the fact that she would forever be shadowed by a man she cared nothing for? Could she convince herself to submit and give up her voice?
No. No, she could not. She would not.
She knew when to keep fighting and when to run.
~o~
A few days turned into weeks, and Brili barely spoke to anyone. When she did, it was purely superficial. She ignored Fili and Kili's attempts at friendly banter and her Uncle's references to her "episode," or so he called it. Given her circumstances, she showed as little emotion as possible, smiled a smile that never met her eyes when expected to, sat up straight, and curtsied; she'd become a shining example of courtly behavior almost overnight. The only flaw that Dis could find in her behavior was that she never participated in the wedding plans despite her many full-hearted attempts to include her. Brili always responded coldly to the invitation as if the wedding were a particularly nasty pox that would infect her should she get too close.
She also had yet to meet with Bofur since her ruined birthday party. Not that she minded any. She could go the rest of her life without seeing him and be perfectly fine. In fact, if you asked her, she'd prefer it.
"Brili, eat your food. You have a whole meal in front of your plate still," her mother scolded, her eyes narrowing as she watched her only daughter sullenly toss a carrot from one end of her plate to the other.
Her eyes flickered upwards for a fraction of a moment, not really looking at Dis but in her general direction before returning to stare listlessly at her meal. Damn, usually, if she twiddled her utensils enough, they would assume she'd eaten, and she could go back to her room.
"Yes, Mother." She took the most petite, most lady-like bite possible.
She felt as if she were suffocating in the mountain. She hadn't gone outside since her birthday. She missed the sunlight, the fresh air, the breeze… Even worse was the feeling that she had an untapped well of energy coiled up underneath her skin. She appeared at lessons and meals, and all other time was spent in her unlocked chambers, the door now left wide open with frequent passersby to ensure she wasn't attempting to bar the door again.
Her brothers had asked her to come outside the mountain for an afternoon, but she refused every time. She wanted absolutely nothing to do with them, no matter how they tried to entice her.
Those treacherous, back-stabbing—
Thorin cleared his throat. "You are meeting with Bofur tomorrow. He insists on having you for lunch. I expect there won't be a problem this time."
Her fork slipped out of her hand and landed with a clatter on her plate. Have lunch? How exactly does one have lunch with their captor? What would they talk about? She'd sooner stab herself in the eye with this fork than have to listen to anything he had to say. Her brothers looked at her warily, waiting for her to start throwing things like she had the morning after announcing her engagement.
She did not offer them the satisfaction as much as she would have liked to smash her meal into her uncle's face.
She lifted her fork from her plate and refused to meet her uncle's eyes. "Very well, sir."
While her family continued their meal, engaging in various forms of pleasant small talk around her, Brili continued to eat smaller and smaller bites. Her appetite was all but nonexistent these days, but for good reason.
She had a plan. A plan that was going to have to happen sooner than she initially thought, a plan that was hastily thrown together out of desperation. Still, it was better than sitting around and doing nothing. She placed her fork on the table and folded her hands into her lap, the picture of poise and sophistication. She was sure that she ate enough to be allowed to leave without too much of a fuss.
"May I be excused, please?" she asked no one in particular, someone would answer her.
"Bri, stop."
She lifted her face to look at Fili, once again employing that little trick where she didn't look directly at anyone but just past them. "I'm sorry, brother. Did I say something wrong?"
He was about to answer her when Thorin interrupted him, a furrow forming between his brows. "You may go. Your mother will have a maid sent up tomorrow morning to prepare you. I suggest you find a more appealing attitude overnight."
Really? Those are going to be the last words I hear from him?
She stood from her seat, curtseying politely. "Of course, Uncle. Mother, brothers, goodnight."
She did not waste time with more goodbyes. She had too much to do and too little time to do it. She'd be leaving come nightfall.
She made it to her room quickly and began to pack a few minor provisions. She had kept two outfits—they'd been spared the culling that had befallen her best dresses—that would be good for traveling. She'd grab some food from the kitchens on her way to the pantries where there was a hidden door, the same door she'd used to leave the mountain on her birthday. She lifted the chest lid by her bedside and put her spare outfit in a larger bag. She eyed the set of throwing knives that Kili had given her a few birthdays before. They'd be coming with her, too. She knew better than to go out into the wilds in the dead of night without something to defend herself.
Thorin had apparently forgotten about the knives because he refused to return the sword that Fili had given her.
She heard feet approaching the stairs and shut the trunk, hurriedly jumping on the bed with her brush in hand. There was a knock on her door before she heard Fili speak. Speak of the devil…
"Brili? You in there?"
Of course, I'm here. Where the hell else would I go in this Mahal forsaken—
He didn't wait for an answer before opening the door and leaning in her doorway. He watched her brush a small section of hair, smoothing the lock with no enthusiasm. Her face did not betray the anger that bubbled inside of her. He took another step closer.
"May I come in?" he repeated as if she had a choice.
She didn't look at him, just nodded slightly, fingers gripping the hairbrush tighter than necessary. He sat on the corner of her bed and stared at the embroidered pattern on her bedspread.
"Ready for tomorrow?" he asked, trying to convince his sister to open up about anything.
"As ready as I can be," she replied in a no-nonsense voice. "Is there something you need, brother?"
He frowned, fingertip nervously tracing the threaded pattern. "I just want to talk. I mean, it's been a while since we've—"
"I've nothing to say," she interrupted him.
That was a lie. She had a lot of things that she wanted to say, actually. Saying them wouldn't make a difference, though. She was alone, completely and utterly alone. She just wanted things to be the way they were… Instead, all she had was this looming threat she could embrace or run from.
She could feel the tension radiating off of her elder brother in waves.
"I know you aren't happy about this, Bri, and I'm sorry."
Liar.
He wasn't sorry. None of them were.
"I don't know what you're talking about. I couldn't be happier."
Fili smirked tellingly. "That act would be more convincing if you hadn't slapped me in the face when we introduced you to your fiancé."
I should have decked you.
She tried not to let her face betray her anger and hurt. "I'm tired, brother. Please let me go to bed. I have a long day tomorrow."
"Yeah, you're right… Get some sleep, okay?" He nodded his head, leaning over to kiss her forehead. "I'll talk to you tomorrow, yeah?"
~o~
Brili had honestly believed that escaping the mountain would be difficult. But she wasn't exactly sure why she thought that it would be. Her regular escapades had always—well, almost always—been reasonably successful. She knew when the guards patrolled, which guards would turn a blind eye if she was caught roaming the corridors. She knew which route she could take to the kitchens with the lowest risk of being spotted. With that in mind, it seemed reasonable to believe that her escape would be simple. She just hadn't expected it to go so… smoothly. She had never expected that her freedom had always been so attainable. The hardest part had honestly been opening her chamber door.
She wore the simplest clothes she could find in her wardrobe: a pair of brown riding slacks, a beige tunic, a dark vest, and a velvet traveling cloak. The cloak was bound to draw some attention, but it was early spring, and the nights were still cold. She had a small satchel of coin with her and wrapped her hunting knife belt around her hips.
It didn't take long for her to reach the kitchens below everyone's quarters. By some miracle, she hadn't been passed by anyone in the corridors save a lone mouse that bolted at the sight of her. Brili knew she had until the rooster crowed before the head chef arrived to begin his morning preparations. So, she did the only logical thing she knew: she began stealing food and filling her water skin.
She snatched loaves of bread from the evening before and tossed them with apples and carrots in a burlap sack. She raided the pantry and stole two jars of honey and some berry preserves. Her stomach also demanded that she steal a bowl of porridge left simmering in a large iron pot over the cooling fire coals all night. It could be the last warm meal she would eat in a while. She contemplated what she was doing as she stuffed spoonfuls of warm oats into her mouth.
Could she do this? Well, what choice did she have? Her family was going to send her away regardless of her decision, but it would be so easy for her to just stay where she was and let that happen. They could find her in the kitchens, enjoying her breakfast and she could pretend that things were not about to change. The thought warmed her heart for just a moment. She looked up from her breakfast at the round door that covered up an old entrance, now an exit, to the mountain. In her right breast pocket was the same key that Kili had found by the river on her birthday. It felt like a lifetime to her. It was so hard to believe that only a fortnight had passed…
Yes, it would be nice to pretend, even for a few days, that things would stay the same, that she could spend the rest of her life at home with her brothers and mother.
But she knew that her life was never going to be the same. The moment she found out about the proposal, things had changed. In the end, she knew she had to leave.
With a heavy heart, she took one last bite of warm oatmeal, shouldered her now stuffed packs, adjusted the knives attached to her belt, and made her way to wheat stores. By the time she had weaseled around the barrels of grain and squeezed behind the large oaken shelves that stored more preserves and pickled vegetables, her determination had grown stronger.
The door opened in a small crag at the mountain's base when she unlocked it. Brili could hear the rushing sound of a distant waterfall. Her skin prickled as a cool breeze brushed past her, and her ears picked up the sound of a night owl hooting nearby. Her heart leaped a few paces as the world opened up around her. She had never stepped foot outside of the mountain at night, and she was surprised to notice that the bright half-moon was enough to light her way.
With one final surge of resolve, she took the rusted iron key and gripped it tight for only a moment before lobbing it into the rock bed by the door.
She would make it to the riverbank in good time, still under the cloak of darkness, and the boat bobbing by the shore on her birthday was still there. The ship was small; there was only enough room for two people at best, and one could easily row it. Brili wasted no time loading her packs into the dinghy and climbing in herself. She wondered briefly if her family would even truly care about her absence.
As she pushed the boat into the water, she felt that heaviness lifting off her shoulders. The morning songbird began to sing her merry tune as she sailed towards the rising sun.
Like the songbird, Brili was finally free.