I had been waiting for a certain number of reviews before posting, but I don't get notifications (or maybe I miss them?) for guest reviews. So, imagine my surprise when I randomly look at my reviews to see that I got four GUEST reviews in addition to the people who officially reviewed! Thank you everyone! (I told you reviews make me post faster! XD)
Enjoy!
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"Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage." -Lao Tzu
~*Chapter 26*~
The Carrack
Eventually, the cold seeps into my arm until it's numb and I finally regain my composure. As long as it stays perfectly still, I can almost forget that my shoulder is dislocated.
I try to recall any information on how to get it back into place, besides obviously forcing it myself. The only thing that comes to mind is hearing that you can damage your arm further if you don't know what you're doing. My stomach twists as I realize that I never learned how to properly perform that maneuver, and I really don't know how to do it. Not good. What am I going to do?
Suddenly, the first rays of sunlight crest the horizon, illuminating the majestic mountaintops and filling my eyes with bright yellow. A tiny wave of relief washes through me and I blink my eyes against the glare. The bright light of the sun seems to breathe life into my weary soul, banishing (for a moment) the anxieties that have plagued me during the darkness.
In a world with no artificial light, the gratitude I have for the sun rising every morning has changed. It makes sense why primitive cultures may have even worshiped the sun.
A moment of awe washes over me as, with my newfound clarity, I observe the eagles soaring all around us, my companions on their backs. They cut through the morning breeze with effortless grace, completely free. From my limited vantage point, I can't spot Thorin's eagle; it's likely beneath mine.
An idea sparks within me as I look down at the golden brown feathers beneath my fingers- Why not ask the eagles to fly us straight to Laketown myself?! Then we can completely avoid the evil spider-infested Mirkwood forest!
"I have to try," I whisper to myself, determined to seize this once-in-a-lifetime chance. Gandalf won't do it, so I must.
Bracing myself, I lean towards the royal creature beneath me and gather my thoughts before taking a deep breath, "Erm...excuse me? Uh...Great and powerful Eagle? Can..can you please tell me your name?"
"I am called SunTear, tiny human," the voice that reaches me has a regal tone, easily carrying to my ears even in the wind.
Again, I'm hit by the remarkable realization that an animal possesses human speech and is talking back to me. It's...really TRULY mind-blowing! I've always dreamed of speaking with animals when I was a little kid, and now it's actually happening?!
"Very nice to meet you, SunTear! My name is Peyton Silva," I introduce myself, eager to establish some form of connection.
"A strange name," SunTear muses.
"Uhhh, I guess?" I blink, slightly taken aback by the comment. He's probably wondering why I'm finally talking to him after spending the entire night in silence. "So...I wanted to thank you for saving us, and...I was wondering...would you be so kind to drop us off near Laketown? I reckon it's about four or five hours from here by flight."
Willing my heart to slow down, I wait for SunTear's response, hoping.
"No." The eagle responds simply.
"N-no?" My voice falters. A feeling of confusion and disappointment comes over me, "But why?! How come?!"
"The Valar have sent you on a quest, have they not? We must not interfere in that quest," SunTear explains with a majestic air.
"But... but you're interfering right now! You are literally saving us!" I retort, my frustration growing.
"Only in response to Gandalf's call for aid, a call sanctioned by the Valar," he responds simply.
"Well, how about you just take ME over Mirkwood? I can complete the task the Valar gave me and save Thorin after that anyways," The words slip out of my mouth impulsively, since I'm not originally part of this whole thing, but guilt quickly washes over me as I realize the implications of leaving the company. Abandon the dwarves and Bilbo in Mirkwood? Would I forsake them, just as I used to leave my brothers behind when we played? Can I bear to see them march into Mirkwood — alone?
"Does your task intertwine with this Thorin you speak of?" SunTear's question breaks the silence, the rhythm of his massive wings slowing in pace.
My response is cut short, "Well... yes. But-"
"Where your quest lies, there you should tread," SunTear firmly states, as if that's the end of it.
A frown creases my forehead, and a whirlwind of emotions stirs inside of me. The Eagles are supposed to be awesome and awe-inspiring, but I didn't realize they were so hard to negotiate with!! No wonder Gandalf was so adamant about NOT calling them, and even more wary of offending them with the ferry service idea!
Sure, SunTear has a valid point. But I have a more urgent one.
"Look, I know it's not your problem...but, this is a life and death situation!! There are enormous spiders in Mirkwood! And I have extreme arachnophobia, which means that my soul leaves my body when I see a spider. The bigger the spider, the further my soul leaves. Spiders as big as those will surely kill me! Then I won't be able to complete the task the Valar sent me to do!" My words rush out of me in a jumble, fast and panicked.
"True courage is born from confronting, and overcoming, the things we fear." SunTear's voice resonates with wisdom and his words strike deep within me, sounding like Gandalf. "The road you tread is perilous, full of uncertainties...yet these challenges hold the seeds of great courage. Stand tall against your fears, Peyton, and find the strength to move forward. Only then will you conquer your fear."
I mull over his words trying to make sense of them. But before I can form a response, he and the other eagles suddenly plunge down a cliff. I gasp as my stomach lurches, my good hand instinctively clutching at his soft and enormous feathers. A twinge of pain shoots through my numb shoulder but soon passes, replaced by the exhilarating rush of the wind and the breathtaking view of the waterfall. I wish I could spread my arms wide, imitating the eagles in flight as if I were one myself, but I know my shoulder wouldn't be so forgiving of such a whimsical act.
A flashback of Galadriel's ethereal and sad expression fills my mind. In order to change the future, you must use all your courage. If the line of Durin is to survive, a great sacrifice will be required at your hand.'
Could the key to saving Thorin's life lie within the perils of Mirkwood? My memory of the story's details is that Mirkwood is a path of torment and struggle, the company narrowly escaping being devoured. And then being imprisoned in Thranduil's jail.
That's simply no bueno for me.
Desperation completely overtakes my voice, my plea bordering on recklessness. "SunTear, I'm desperate! Please! I will do anything you ask! I just need an Eagle that doesn't have eggs this season to fly me over Mirkwood. Name your price!"
A tense silence ensues as the giant eagle considers my plea. I don't want to make him mad, but I only have one shot at this. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, his response is a solemn promise, "Complete your task, little one. Then I shall fly you anywhere you desire."
SunTear's solemn promise hangs in the air, a beacon of hope and surprise amidst looming shadows of doubt. That is a very generous offer. One that perhaps no human has ever received.
But that's not what I wanted.
"SunTear, I really think-" My protest is cut short as I spot Thorin, unconscious on the ground of a very tall rock. My heart skips a beat and a fissure of fear crawls throughout my body. SunTear lands on the elevated rock pillar, his massive wings folding gracefully.
All thoughts of giant eagles and Mirkwood spiders vanish. I slide off the eagle's smooth back, cradling my injured arm, and rush towards him. "Thorin?! Thorin?!"
Fear and worry grip my heart tightly. The gust of wind that accompanies SunTear's departure barely registers in my brain.
Thorin remains completely still and the weight of the situation crushes me as I hear footsteps approaching as Gandalf and the others arrive. "Gandalf! He's not breathing!" I turn to him frantically. "I need to perform CPR again!"
I lift my arm to free it from my coat, but a sharp, horrible jolt of pain shoots through me, reminding me of my injury. I gasp in pure agony and grit my teeth.
"Peyton!?", "Pey, are you ok?", "What's wrong lass?"
I don't respond to the din of inquiries, unable to focus on anything except the realization that I can't do this. Even if my arm wasn't injured, I'm much too tired and weak to help Thorin effectively. As CPR on Nori taught me, dwarf physiology is denser than a human's. With someone as...fit...as Thorin is, I won't be able to push on his chest hard enough or long enough to do much good.
Turning to Dwalin, the strongest member of the company, I explain, "My arm got dislocated in the fight. I need your help to perform CPR on him."
I know Dwalin would do just about anything for his king. So I'm confused when his face pales considerably and a shocked and hesitant expression overtakes him. "M-me? I...I'm not...I don't think..."
In a flash of inspiration, I realize why he's hesitant.
"You can press on his chest while I give him air." I insist, upset at the slightest delay. Dwalin's eyes light up in understanding and he relaxes, nodding and stepping forward. I roll my eyes. I'll reserve the mouth to mouth part for myself.
As I turn and look at Thorin's mouth, my heart beats faster for reasons other than fear. Can I do this? I take a quick internal analysis. I'm pretty sure there are medical ethics somewhere that state that you can't enjoy doing CPR on someone. I'm soooo going to hell for this.
I unconsciously lean closer to his face...
Gandalf puts a gentle hand on my uninjured shoulder, halting me in my progress. "Let me see him first, Peyton," he says calmly.
I freeze, his words breaking through the fog in my tired mind and pulling me out of my inappropriate thoughts. I quickly step up and back away, cradling my injured arm to give him space. "Oh, right. Of course," I mutter, slightly flustered.
Gandalf's here this time so...there's no need for any of that. Erm.
I hover anxiously nearby, unable to tear my eyes away as Gandalf kneels down next to the unconscious dwarf. His touch is gentle as he reaches out towards Thorin while murmuring to me, "You didn't see it, but Azog's warg bit him on his chest. Chest compressions might aggravate his injuries."
My heart plummets at the revelation and I choke, "A warg... bit him?!" I remember the strange sound of his wheezed breathing, and realize his lungs have been punctured.
Gandalf says nothing, but he closes his eyes as he touches Thorin's head, murmuring under his breath. His hand moves down Thorin's face and I watch in awe as a ring on his finger flashes, so quickly and imperceptibly that if I blinked I would have missed it. Thorin's chest suddenly moves, taking in a large breath as if he was brought back to life. He probably was.
Relief floods through me, and I feel like my own lungs can work again.
"The halfling?" Are the first words Thorin murmurs, much to all of our surprise.
"He's alright. Bilbo is safe. He's right here." Gandalf turns to indicate Bilbo who has hung back away from all of us surrounding Thorin.
Thorin slowly gets up, his steps unsteady and Fili and Dwalin rush to help him. He faces Bilbo, his voice harsh,"You! Why did you do that?! You nearly got yourself killed!" He sounds confused and angry. "Did I not say that you were a burden? That you would not survive in the wild?" His tone is raw, as if he's forcing the words out of his lungs. "That you had no place amongst us...
My eyes start to water and my hand presses over my mouth to stifle my silent cry of pain at his words. I can't believe what I'm hearing! How can be so cruel?! After Bilbo saved his LIFE?!
Bilbo looks down, crushed by Thorin's harsh words. The urge to rush forward and comfort him wells up within me, but my whole body feels heavy as if I've been poured with wet sand. The revelation of Thorin's cruel side has left me stunned, speechless.
Thorin's breathing is ragged, as if fighting some great emotion before he surges towards Bilbo,"I have never have I been so wrong in my entire life." He envelopes a shocked Bilbo in a tight, heartfelt hug.
The air whooshes out of me at the same time it does Bilbo and I stare at the two of them embracing in shock. I rapidly blink away the tears so I can make sure I'm really seeing what I'm seeing. The company share similar reactions as they cheer, their expressions mirroring the rollercoaster of emotions we've all experienced. This moment, though, is so potent and special. It's as if all the pain and fear of the past night have been washed away by this moment of triumph and peace
"I am sorry I doubted you." Thorin says softly to him, his voice laced with genuine remorse once he pulls away.
"No, no, it's okay. I would have doubted myself too!" Bilbo shakes his head, his voice filled with emotion. "I'm not a hero! Or a warrior..." he looks at the rest of us, "Or even a burglar." We all chuckle at that and he smiles, amused himself, before a penitent look crosses his face, "I've been a bit fussy during the trip so far, I'm aware of that now. And..." he pauses, before looking back at Thorin and whispering so softly I can barely hear him, "and I know why you've felt threatened by me." That last part is said very quietly, seemingly intended for Thorin's ears only. But somehow, I hear it. Bilbo's words carry a weight of both forgiveness and an apology, his empathy shining through.
Confusion furrows my brow as Bilbo and Thorin hold gazes, some kind of unspoken understanding passing between them that I'm not privy to. I cannot see Thorin's face to gauge his response but he slowly inclines his head regally in acknowledgement, while Bilbo returns it with a self-demeaning smile and a shrug.
Threatened? How could Thorin feel threatened by Bilbo?
"What do you mean, Bilbo?" I wonder aloud, feeling left out of the unspoken conversation. The need for clarity tugs at my heart, urging me to seek understanding.
Bilbo's eyes widen in surprise, before he blinks and looks back at Thorin, asking abruptly, "Is that what I think it is?"
He motions with his hand to something behind the two of them, giving Thorin a cheeky smile as he ignores my question. Thorin chuckles deeply and smacks a friendly hand on Bilbo's shoulder as they walk towards the edge together, their miraculous camaraderie evident.
My mind races, struggling to piece together the fragments of the unspoken conversation. Did I miss something? If my brain wasn't feeling so drained of glucose, I might have understood the deeper meaning behind their exchange. But right now, my thoughts are as blurry as my eyes. I just want to curl into a ball on the nice hard stone and fall asleep.
Instead I stagger tiredly with the company as we walk to where Bilbo and Thorin look out over the horizon.
"The Lonely Mountain," Gandalf announces grandly to those of us in the group who've never seen it before. "The last of the Great Dwarf Kingdoms of Middle Earth." His words hang in the air, carrying the weight of history and destiny.
My sarcastic brain wants to ask him if he knows of any Great Dwarf Kingdoms that AREN'T from Middle Earth, but my tongue gets caught in my mouth as I look at the teeeeeny tiny mountain in the very far distance.
Seriously?!? The eagles couldn't have dropped us off any closer?? Argh!
"Our home." Thorin whispers, and I hear his awe and excitement.
The sheer magnitude of those words seem to resonate with us, as if he has voiced the collective longing of all of the dwarves in the company. That mountain represents home to them all, but it also represents home to me too. Once I complete my task, the Valar will tell Gandalf how to send me back to my world. It's the end of the road. For all of us.
An annoying bird twitters overhead, flying in the direction of the mountain. Its presence only serving to irritate me further since it's a bird and can fly itself to Erebor.
"Look! A raven is returning to the mountain! It is as the prophecy foretold!" Oin calls out excitedly, breaking the silence. I frown tiredly at the small brown bird. Ravens sure look different in Middle Earth.
"That, my dear Oin, is a Thrush." Gandalf wisely informs us. Oin must be going deaf AND blind.
I blink up at the flying black speck in the distance. A thrush? Why does that name sound familiar?
"We'll take it as a sign," Thorin murmurs. His face, although scratched and weary, exudes a peace and happiness I rarely see on him. He glances over at me across where I stand on Bilbo's other side and adds wryly, "A good omen."
I raise an amused eyebrow back at him for his 'seer' quip, my exhaustion momentarily forgotten as my heart warms to see his excitement. Stinging wasps and flying birds are omens in Middle Earth, apparently.
"You're right." Bilbo agrees between us, a calm smile on his face as well. "I do believe the worst is behind us."
What? He thinks the worst is behind-...oh, Bilbo. No.
"Oh, Bilbo." I close my bleary eyes against the wide expanse of green carpet between us and the mountain, cradling my aching arm.
Mirkwood Forest.
I muster a weary chuckle, my voice laced with exhaustion, "You couldn't resist jinxing us, could you?"
Bilbo glances at me with an apologetic smile, and gently bumps my shoulder affectionately like I always do to him.
Agony zips through my arm, tearing a scream out of my chest, throaty and anguished.
The company freezes, staring at me in shock.
"I'm fine." I pant, trying to pull myself together and gritting my teeth against the pain. "Just…just give me a minute." There goes our nice peaceful moment.
"What happened? What's wrong?" Thorin demands, even as Bilbo apologizes profusely, confused how his little nudge has hurt me. The tranquility of the moment is now shattered as Thorin comes over and places a concerned hand on me.
"I...ahh...dislocated my shoulder." I close my eyes and breath out my nose against the pain that still hasn't faded.
"How?" He demands, upset.
"Azog."
Thorin's face darkens in rage. He expels air through his nose before he decides it's pointless and to reel it in. His expression becomes resigned and a tad regretful and he begins tugging at his belt, pulling it off.
"Whatareyoudoing?!" I ask him frantically, staring with eyes too wide.
"You're going to need something to bite down on," he murmurs, his voice steady.
I stare down at the action of him removing his belt and trying my hardest not to let my wild fantasies get away from me. I'm obviously more tired than I thought because the odd idea of Thorin's belt in my mouth is strangely attractive. My tired brain is obviously out of wack! Remember your arm's dislocated, crazy-head! Now's not the time for-
My thoughts are suddenly halted when I finally take notice of how ominous he and the other dwarves' expressions look. This can't be good.
"You want me…to put your belt…in my mouth?" I deadpan, with a frown before continue slowly, "Why am I going to bite your belt?"
"We have to reset your shoulder, Lass." Oin speaks up, coming over and taking the belt from Thorin.
Panic seizes me. "Nope. Nope. I'm good! I'm fine. Thank you for your concern, I can take it from here." I turn to retreat, scouting for a way down. There must be some stairs around here.
"Peyton-" Thorin's hand reaches for my arm and pain, sharp and hot, zaps through my nerves. A high keening sound escapes me and he releases me instantly, but doesn't move away. He moves closer instead, his hand relocating to support my good arm, "Peyton, please...You're hurt. You must let us help. It will only get worse if we do not put it back into place."
"Yeah, help..." I pant, turning to level a frustrated glare at him. "If you hadn't gone after Azog like a damn hero then none of this would have even happened! I wouldn't have had to go after you! Thank goodness Bilbo got to you in time!"
He flinches back from me, dropping my good arm, and my anger evaporates into confusion at the anguished look on his face.
He begins to shake his head, "I didn't...I never..." his uncharacteristic lack of words has me watching him with wide eyes.
Balin steps forward, speaking softly in Khuzdul to Thorin, a hand on his shoulder as if comforting him. Thorin's throat bobs, and he doesn't meet my eyes. Is this another dwarf culture thing that I'm not privy to? Like...insulting a dwarf's sword fighting skills? Am I not supposed to point my finger and blame a dwarf for a foolish battle move? I feel so perplexed, and I didn't even mean to offend anyone this time!
Balin takes over the conversation, gently addressing me himself, "You won't be able to climb down without your shoulder set, Peyton. It's too steep. It will hurt at first, but the pain will disappear immediately afterward. Trust us."
His words are earnest. There's something about his wise eyes intent on my face that briefly reminds me of my father, an expression of affection and care. I can't help but feel a sense of security.
I sigh, my stomach trembling slightly. But I nod, "Ok."
"One of us will have to hold you still, while I push your arm back in," Oin steps forward, his eyes also are kind but resolved. He gives me a regretful look, "Who do you trust to keep you still during the procedure?"
I don't understand why he says it that way. I look around at the dwarves, all of their eyes on me. Someone that I 'trust'? To keep me still?
"I don't understand." I finally admit, my tired brain not catching and holding onto the information like I want it to. It should be easy to understand, but it's not, so I decide to just go with honesty.
"The pain will make ye struggle, lass," Dwalin speaks up. "Someone will need t'keep ye still so Oin can pop your arm back into place."
Terror and anxiety fill me once more. I have to bite a belt and be physically held still as my arm is worked on?! I consider trying to flee again, but know it's useless. I have to do this. I need to be brave like SunTear had said.
Pondering the situation, I realize that I trust all of them and any of them could potentially do it. But there's only one person whose arms I'm the most comfortable in.
"Thorin." I decide resolutely.
He hasn't met my eyes throughout the conversation, and now he looks up, surprise on his face. Does he believe I don't trust him because of Azog? What am I missing?
"Excellent! Let's get your shoulder fixed then, shall we?" Balin seems much warmer than before as if extremely pleased by my decision.
Thorin comes forward and keeping his voice low so only I can hear him. "Are you sure?" He rumbles, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Even though you were wounded because of my actions?"
I sense a deeper meaning behind his words, but I have no clue what it could be. "Well...yeah...But, I mean, this is how you can make it up to me!" I would shrug if I could. Technically it isn't TRULY his fault, since I decided to face Azog on my own, but I don't want to admit it right now.
He maintains eye contact before giving me a solemn nod.
"Come this way, Peyton, towards the center, away from the edge," Oin gently presses my good arm, leading me to the middle of the towering rock with all the dwarves following.
"It'll be alright, Pey," Kili and Fili say in encouragement, each patting my good arm in comfort as I walk through them. "Don't you worry, Oin will fix you right up!"
"Keep a stiff upper lip!" Nori chimes in, trying to lighten the mood, which I've learned is a defense mechanism of his.
"Don't fret, Pey! A quick pop and it'll be done in a jiffy!" Bofur says, also trying to lift my spirits. He walks beside me to the center. "This ain't nothin'! Why, me pal Gildo once had both his arms popped out at the same time! Not a pretty sight... but it was-"
I blank out his words and start shaking in fear at the idea of how TWO dislocated shoulders might feel while Oin indicates for me to sit down. I vaguely hear Bofur getting a smack from Bifur, who scolds him in Khuzdul for lacking sensitivity to my situation. At least...that's what I imagine he's saying.
I tremble until the moment I sense Thorin sit down as well, off to my side and slightly behind me. My terror is briefly replaced by a feeling of security as he gently wraps one thick powerful arm around me and I'm enveloped by his strength and scent. A feeling of protection, like I had felt in Goblin town, moves through me and I desperately cling to that feeling, lifting my uninjured arm to grip his thick arm wrapped securely around my torso.
My breaths quicken in dread of the impending discomfort, a mix of fear and anticipation. "Don't let go of me," I plead to him in a frightened whisper as Oin puts the leather belt into my mouth to bite down on. The musky taste of leather fills my mouth, but not unpleasant. The dwarf medic then positions himself next to me with a gentle but firm touch, ready to perform the deed.
"Never." Thorin reassures me, squeezing a little tighter.
I pause. Did he mean it like…
The intense agony of my dislocated shoulder being moved surges through me and I grit my teeth, trying to stifle my cry of pain.
My eyes squeeze shut as tears well up. Oin manipulates my shoulder, trying to figure out the best way to put it back into place and sharp, searing pain shoots through my arm, causing me to cry harshly against the belt clenched between my teeth. I have a sinking feeling that this memory will forever be associated with the taste of leather in my mouth.
The pain is excruciating. I attempt to arch away from Oin's touch, but true to his word, Thorin doesn't budge an inch. He holds me firmly, so that I cannot thrash or flail around from the pain. I register his face pressed into my hair and murmuring something, but the sound of my own harsh breathing and crying fills my ears, echoing the tumultuous storm of emotions swirling inside me. It drowns out all reason, all words.
"...You're doing well...It will pass soon..." I manage to catch snippets of Thorin's voice through my pain.
By the end of it, sweat is pouring down my face, mixed with tears forming tracks through my dirty cheeks. With a final, decisive movement, Oin manages to pop the joint into its rightful place. The pain abruptly stops, relief washes over me and the sensation causes me to go completely limp in Thorin's arms. The lack of pain is like a balm to my tortured nerves and I'm lost in a haze of sweet relief.
Amidst the haze, I realize that the rest of the dwarves have all disappeared except for Thorin and Oin, unable to bear witness to my pain and feeling powerless to help.
But Thorin went through the entire thing with me. He wasn't only a physical support, but a mental one as his presence had taken my focus off of the sensation of cartridge and sinews grinding against each other. His presence was the only thing I could hold onto (literally)and he's now supporting all of my dead weight in his arms. My exhaustion leaves me feeling completely limp.
I hate pain. But the feeling that I now have for Thorin? I...I don't have a name for it. Gratitude and devotion swirl within me, leaving me at a loss for words. No one has ever shown me such care and consideration before except maybe my mom when I once had to get stitches.
"Thank you," I breathe, my frail fingers reaching out to pat his bearded cheek in pitiful gratitude, the closest part of him I have strength to reach.
He doesn't respond, merely presses his face further into my hand before gently lowering me slowly down to the floor. I discover that someone has placed their rolled up coat underneath my neck as a makeshift pillow.
I finally close my eyes, my breathing heavy. I feel more than see Thorin start to get up, and I feel a sudden panic, as if the pain will come back if he leaves. I reach out with my hand to find something of him to hold on to. "Stay," I murmur weakly.
"I will. I must speak to the others briefly and I'll be back." He replies.
I feel irrational fear as my lifeboat leaves me alone. Adrift in the ocean. But thankfully another presence takes his place and I'm not alone.
"How are you holding up, my dear?" Gandalf kindly asks.
I barely can form the words as they slur tiredly from my mouth, "Better. Sooo much better."
"We have much to discuss you and I, but that can all wait." He tries but fails to keep the frustration out of his tone, obviously wondering why I had not come to him about the dreams that plagued me sooner.
I feel someone else kneel on my other side and I open my eyes, expecting to see Thorin back, but I'm pleasantly surprised to see that it's Bilbo instead. He grips my hand in his.
I give a pathetically tired smile and murmur, "Well, there's my little hero...You were amazing."
Bilbo smiles and shakes his head, "I told you, I'm not a hero."
I snort and close my eyes, "Could have fooled me. I've never seen someone so brave as you, saving Thorin the way you did."
"I have."Bilbo says, taking my limp hand in his and giving a gentle squeeze. "You."
I pry open my eyes to look at him confusion, "Me? I didn't have a choice on that one. Thorin had to hold me still."
"No, not that, even though you certainly were brave." His voice becomes a whisper, turning gruff with emotion, "I watched you as you attempted to come back for me...to go back into the goblin tunnels to try and find me. If that's not bravery, I don't know what is."
I smile back at him, touched. I'm so glad I didn't actually have to do that. I don't think Thorin would have let me go anyways.
I try and brush it off, turning the focus back on HIS heroic act, "I couldn't leave my favorite hobbit behind! And, besides, it's easy to save someone you care about...but not someone who's treated you like an enemy for months."
Sleep calls to me. I'm so tired, but I need this question answered "How Bilbo? How were you able to save Thorin after all he's said and done to you since Day ONE of this quest?"
Bilbo nods and looks up into the distance, as the sun slowly gets just a little higher, pondering. Finally, he whispers, "Y-...You were screaming...begging for someone to save him. And...in that moment...I knew why you had come to Arda, to Middle Earth. It was like...a revelation from the Valar - What your purpose here is. And I couldn't let you fail. I couldn't let him die like that."
I gaze back at him stupidly, in shock. How did he find out? Did Gandalf tell him? Duh, Peyton. He literally just said the Valar revealed it. How though?
"Don't tell him, Bilbo." I whisper, glancing around to make sure no one is around. I see the dwarves all gathered on the far side of the carrack, obviously having found the way down. "You cannot tell him. I have to wait until the right moment to break it to him."
"I think he already knows." Bilbo gives an amused smile.
What?! He knows he's going to die?!
"Who told him?" I ask, panicked and confused, "He isn't mad at me?"
Now it's Bilbo's turn to look confused, "Why on Middle Earth would he be mad, Peyton? This is happy news! It's something he's probably dreamed about for years!"
Uhhhhh, are we even talking about the same thing? Why would Thorin be dreaming about me saving him from Azog for years?
"What are you-...He wouldn't dream about something like that! No, that's-...I don't-...he's asked me about future stuff, and I haven't told him why I'm here! That's why he would be mad! Since it's literally the most important future event of all!"
Bilbo just looks confused before he huffs a disbelieving laugh and shakes his head. He pats my hand, "We'll talk about it later. For now, just rest. I can't reason with you, when you're like this."
I frown, feeling offended, but suddenly too exhausted to feel offended. "Ugh, you're infuriating." I murmur, before relaxing once more, knowing that he's right.
"I feel the same about you." I hear Bilbo chuckle, before letting go of my hand and moving away. "Sleep well, Pey."
End of Chapter.
Sorry it's so short! I cut out 3k, lol.
You all THINK you know where this story is heading...but you have no idea, haha. Twists and turns! I wrote this story with the desire to create something no one else has created before. Kinda hard with fanfiction...but we do try ;) Thank you to my faithful reviewers and to my hidden readers. I'm flattered you all like it enough to get this far! XD Most people can't make it past the first chapter, bwahaha!
If anyone is confused about Thorin's reaction or feelings in this chapter, it'll be explained in the next chapter lol.
Anyways! Love you guys!