In which Sara, Thorin, and Dwalin all begin to put their plans into action.
"That's a load of goat dung," said Fili staring in disbelief at his brother. "You know very well I won that drinking contest. I had to carry you home that night."
"No that can't be right," said Kili. "I distinctly remember winning, it was my 50th birthday after all and I won."
"You're balmy brother. It's not true."
Sara pulled back on the reins of her speckled pony as the two prince's storytelling spiraled into a heated argument... again. She sighed looking around at the others spread out over the grassy plain, the sun beating down on their backs. Thorin and Dwalin led the group without words only occasionally turning in the saddle to ensure that all were present and well. Bifur and Bombur rode together talking quietly as were Oin and Gloin. Riding off to the left, Ori sat chewing on the end of a pen as he poured over a parchment, Dori huffing in irritation whenever he had to reach out and steady his brother or guide his pony. Nori was to the right to the company between them and the dark twisting trees of mirkwood, his eyes near constant in their probing of the dark depths. His shoulders were tense as he kept one hand on the staff in his lap and the other near his hip where his knives were strapped. Balin and Bilbo were some distance behind her and Bofur was dawdling off to the far right by himself. Sara frowned. It was unlike the toymaker to be alone but an odd mood had gripped the entire company. They were all a bit more irritable and anxious than normal even the ponies. The first three days from Beorn's they had traveled quickly, the forest several miles to their right, but as they continued north the treeline had crept closer and closer until early this afternoon they were only a couple hundred feet away. The nearer they drew, the more morose and cantankerous the group became. This was already Fili and Kili's second tiff today and if truth be told, Sara had little patience for their bickering.
There was a little beep from her lap signaling her phone had reached full charge so she pulled it free of the cord and entered the new passcode. On her home screen there was a notification for her photo file asking if she wanted to delete duplicate or unnecessary images so she opened the folder and got lost in scrolling. There were pictures from college, some of her and her roommates goofing around at the grocery store and a picture of her and Nathen at Barren River Lake during summer break last year. She grimaced, maybe she hadn't been entirely honest when she told Thorin no one on Earth would miss her.
For as long as Sara could remember Nathan and his family had lived next door and they had grown up the best of friends. Sara could still remember going to the emergency room with Nathen the time he had broken his leg climbing across the old tree between their second story windows. Nathen had even been her first kiss, if you counted an experiment between seven-year-olds that ended in mutual disgust as a viable kiss that is. They had schemed and hatched plans together, often driving their parents crazy and when they were twelve had convinced them to let them build a proper tree house in the tree between their houses under the supervision of Nathen's older brother Jacob. After high school Nathan had left to join the Army and returned four years later to attend Eastern Kentucky University with Sara, using his GI Bill to pay his way through school. That first year of college together had been amazing and they had hung out so often that their grades had suffered for it.
But much had changed when Nathan met Stephanie in their second year. Stephanie was a nice enough girl and Nathan adored her, but as they had begun to date Nathan had less time to spend with Sara. She knew this was nothing personal and bound to happen sooner or later but the prospect had left her feeling lonely, and then at last ThanksGiving Nathan and Stephanie had announced their engagement. It had been a bit of a blow at the time. Sara had been in her fair share of relationships but none of them had lasted very long and some had ended badly. She scrolled faster through the pictures missing her friend. He had planned to come caving with her that day she had been sent here, but Stephanie had needed him for some family thing and so Sara had gone on by herself. Not the best idea in retrospect, especially since Nathan was the one who was good with directions and not her.
The images blurred past on her screen as she thumbed rapidly through them, but a flash of gold caught her eye and she scrolled back searching. She felt a pang when she found the picture she was looking for. It one of the candid shots Fili and Kili had gotten after they had discovered her camera. Thorin leaned against the trunk of a large pine running a cloth over his golden harp. It was an excellent picture of him, his face was relaxed and calm, focused on the task at hand, two of his dark braids falling over his shoulder. She flipped absent-mindedly through the remaining pictures as her thoughts drifted to the kisses she had shared with him.
Since Sara's talk with Bilbo several days ago, several things had become quite clear. The dragon Smaug must die. Gandalf was right, a dragon left alone was bound to be too much trouble in the future timeline, so the company would have to continue on to the mountain. The second thing Bilbo had drove home related to Thorin. Her friend was right, fear or no fear Sara had come to realize that she cared for Thorin too much to let a possible future stand between them. She wanted to at least try and see if they could be good together. But Bilbo had not thought of one thing that was eating away at her. Secret keeping was a recipe for disaster when it came to relationships, she having been on the receiving end of a couple of nasty revelations herself in the past.
Tucking her phone in her pocket she glanced to the head of the company where Thorin had turned around surveying the company. As his eyes fell on her she looked away trying to quiet the clamoring of her heart. She had been avoiding him for days now. At first she had seen his anger in the stiff set of his shoulders but as the days had passed his mood had changed and the look in his eyes had softened. Last night he had even tried to get her on her own after the fire had been put out, but she had quickly struck up a haphazard conversation with Gloin about Gimli, to which occasion the jeweler had risen. Sara felt a modicum of guilt evading Thorin like that but she had made up her mind that she was not going to enter into a relationship with him until she could be entirely honest with him. That is, if he would even have her once he knew the truth, but it was proving more difficult than she had expected. The next few weeks could not pass quickly enough. She had considered telling him now instead of waiting till after they met the elves but even if Thorin decided to go on there was no telling how the other dwarves would react. She worried that some of the others would even persuade him to turn back or dig in their heels and refuse to continue into certain danger. She could hardly blame them if they did. No, she would stick to what she had come to think of as 'Plan Nori.'
Just as talking to Bilbo had helped Sara sort out her own thoughts, this new development with Beorn had begun to shift her perspective of the future as well. Simply because Smaug had to die and there was no way to avoid the subsequent battle, didn't mean that Sara couldn't take steps to try and prepare for that eventuality. At first she had worried about messing something up but it occurred to her that everything was already up ended, and that if she had to go through this, then she would do it on her own terms. If the Valar were not going to be more clear in their expectations for her then she was going to do as she pleased. She would turn everything on its head, while still trying to preserve the future of the fellowship if it meant saving lives, especially those of her friends and family.
She began by compiling a mental list of their allies in the battle ahead. The dwarves of Dain Iornfoot, the men of Laketown, the elves of Mirkwood, the Eagles, and Beorn and his kin. In the book the dwarfs and their reluctant allies had been taken unaware by the attack of the goblins due to their inner squabbling over the treasure, their long existing racial tension, and the simple lack of knowledge. But what would happen if those differences were set aside, the allies given more time to plan, strategize, and gather the strength necessary. If the people of Laketown were protected and evacuated there would be more men to help in the fight. Even better, what if Smaug were killed before he was ever allowed to leave the mountain? And what of the schism between the elves and the dwarfs? If they could work together then not only would they be better prepared for the battle, but also for the future when the dwarves in the Blue Mountains came to Erebor. She didn't know how to get in contact with the Eagles but she supposed Gandalf did. When she sent the falcon back to Rivendell she would tell him to rally the great birds and if possible bring them earlier. Beorn was seeing to his kin and would be at the battle as well, and she saw no reason why Dain would not still come to their aid in defence of the mountain no matter the enemy.
The group that really worried her were the elves, but how did you go about reconciling two peoples when you have no idea what had caused the rift in the first place? Normally she would have asked Gandalf seeing as he was the oldest person she knew, and he was also most likely to give her an unbiased account of the past events, but he was not here. Sara shifted in her saddle to peer at Balin and Bilbo behind her, listening to the quiet conversation on hobbit customs. She supposed the old diplomat was her next best option. She glanced ahead. Fili and Kili's argument was still ongoing, though thankfully not growing in volume or intensity. She let her ponies steps slow till Balin and Bilbo drew up on her left.
"And those are only some of the events we hold under the party tree," Bilbo was saying.
"I see," said Balin, his eyes flicking to Sara. "It sounds quite charming. Perhaps if I ever come back to the Shire I could attend such a celebration."
"Oh most certainly. You are welcome to stay with me if you do. That is, when this whole ordeal is over," said Bilbo. It was quiet for a moment.
"Have you had any luck in pinpointing the date for Durin's day?" asked Sara, tucking her solar charger into her new pack.
"October 19th," replied Balin. She pulled out her phone, checking the date. August 20th, just over two months.
"Balin,"she said, uncertainly. "Can I ask you a question?"
"Certainly lass," he said, turning to her. "What is it you want to know?"
"Well I was just wondering why dwarves and elves don't get along very well. I mean I know by the time we left Rivendell we were on amicable terms with at least Elrond but as a general rule why is there such animosity?"
"That is a complex and loaded question," he said after a few moments thought. "To be honest I don't know if I'm the best person to ask."
"Why not?" asked Bilbo, interested. Balin chuckled.
"Because I'm a dwarf Master Baggins. Anything I know or have been taught is sure to be skewed in our favor, although not many of our kind would be willing to admit that."
"But still one side of the story is better than none," Sara pointed out.
"I suppose that's true," admitted Balin stroking his beard deep in thought. "We have not always been at odds with the elves. There have been times in history that we worked or fought together. The most well-known conflict was over the Nauglamir."
"What's that?" asked Bilbo.
"It was the necklace made by the dwarves of Nogrod in the first age for the elf king Finrod. It is said that the jewels of Valinor were used in its crafting. This was a time of peace and there was a great alliance between our two peoples."
"Then why was the necklace the cause of such strife?" interrupted Bilbo.
"The necklace was lost and forgotten until it was found by Hurin Thalion and cast in his bitterness at the feet of King Thingol, another elven king."
"Why was Hurin angry?" asked Bilbo perplexed.
"That is altogether another story, and one I am not very well familiar with." Bilbo opened his mouth to ask another question but Balin spoke first. "Now see here Mr. Baggins, I will never be able to properly answer Sara's question if I must be interrupted constantly to recount the whole sordid history of Middle-earth." The hobbit snapped his mouth shut. Sara was a bit surprised by Balin's response. He was usually so patient. "Now where was I?"
"King Thingol had the necklace," supplied Sara.
"Yes," said Balin, collecting his thoughts once again. "King Thingol through another unrelated story had in his possession one of the three Silmarils, gems crafted by Feanor capturing some of the light of the two trees. They was said to be gems of unsurpassing beauty and perfection and there is a long and tragic history surrounding each, for they appear at the crux of many ill fated tales, as was this one. You see with these two great treasures in his possession king Thingol sought to make them into one, so he went to the dwarven craftsmen who were at the time in his kingdom. He had them set the Silmaril into the Nauglamir as its centerpiece. Now," said Balin seriously. "This is where things are apt to grow unreliable in terms of what truth is. The dwarfs will claim that the elf king refused to pay them for their work and so they in turn would not surrender the necklace, and the elves no doubt would assert that the dwarves grew jealous and greedy and simply stole the newly crafted treasure. There is also some dispute as to who struck the first blow, whether it was King Thingol who killed a dwarf in his attempt to reclaim the Silmaril or whether it was the dwarven craftsman who slew the elf king in their attempts to flee. I suppose only the dead know the truth now, but it matters little. These events escalated into what is known as the Battle of a Thousand Caves and several other battles and massacres. There were heavy losses on both sides just as I suspect there was also greed and corruption on both sides. This has no doubt grown to be one of the biggest wedges between elves and dwarves down through the ages."
Sara sat in the saddle, swaying side-to-side digesting Balin's tale. That was a lot of ill blood. "So your ancestors fought with the elves and that's why you dislike them?" she asked, wanting to be sure she had understood.
"Oh good heavens no," said Balin. "The dwarves of Nogrod were descendants of the two dwarf fathers who awoke under the Blue Mountains and founded the Broadbeam and Firebeard clans. We Durin's folk usually stayed out of most of the conflict, only Bifur, Bofur and Bomburs ancestors were involved."
"That's kind of odd," said Sara, scratching at the bandaging on her arm.
"What's that lass?"
"Well according to you Bifur, Bofur, and Bombur should be the ones to hold the biggest grudge against elves, yet they are easily the most easygoing and accepting of the group and hold no particular animosity for the elves as do some of the others I could name." She nodded her head in the direction of Dwalin.
"Come to think of it lass, yer right. It is a bit odd," said Balin running a wrinkled hand over his snow white beard. He really did look like the oldest dwarf in the group. Her eyes shot to Thorin's back, aware that he was still a few years older than Balin. What a stark contrast. Perhaps all the history lessons and diplomacy had aged the diplomat prematurely.
"So that explains why the dwarves dislike elves but why do Durin's folk and members of this company in particular have a proverbial axe to grind?" Balin grinned at her.
"That is a much more recent story and one I am more prepared to tell, for I was alive at the time of the feud, though still very young so my knowledge is at best second hand."
"How old were you?" asked Sara, curious.
"Oh, just a mite bit more than a babe. I was seven when Smaug attacked Erebor and destroyed Dale."
"The feud goes back to Smaug?" she asked.
"In part," said Balin, warming to the subject matter. "But according to my teachers it started just before that. The irony of the thing is that it so closely mirrors the tragedy surrounding the Nauglamir. You see back then we were on amicable terms with the elves of Mirkwood under King Thranduil. According to sources, Thranduil was very fond of fine silver and pure white gems and not too long before the tragedy he commissioned our people to fashion a necklace of silver and white gems in memory of his deceased wife. But much like the previous story there was some disagreement over the price for the finished finery and in the end we kept the treasure until it could be sorted, causing Thranduil to storm from the mountain in a rage."
"That's why you don't get on?" asked Bilbo, looking skeptical.
"That's not the half of it," said Balin. "There were ongoing negotiations between the elves and our people trying to resolve the matter, but amidst all this Smaug arrived laying waste to the mountain." Hear the old dwarf paused, his eyes fixed as though seeing through time. "I can clearly remember that day. As my father and mother fled the mountain carrying me out of the smoking front gate, I looked up to see the elf king and his host poised on the horizon. But I saw the relief in my father's eyes replaced with dismay for the elf king turned his back on us. No help came from his people that day, or any day since."
"So in part you blame them for the loss of Erebor?" said Sara, still vigorously scratching her arm.
"Yes, you could say that," said Balin, reaching out to stay her hand. "Don't scratch it lass."
"All that fuss over a handful of jewels," sighed Bilbo, shaking his head. "One would think you could put your differences aside in such a time of need."
"Regardless," said Balin. "At the time of Smaug's attack we still held an alliance with the elves and they should have come to our aid in driving the worm out, or at the very least helped to provide us with relief. They turned their back on an ally."
"Is there not hope of reconciliation?" she asked.
"It's not likely lass. Why the sudden curiosity?"
"I don't know," she said, glancing at Bilbo who was watching her with a knowing look. She had not spoken to him about her plan yet, but he was shruder than most gave him credit for. "I guess it was the elven path that got me thinking. I mean won't it be rough to live next to your enemy if you do take back the mountain."
"Yes, I suppose you're right," he said. "But that is why my job is so important. If and when we do return to Erebor there will be lots of negotiating to do." There was a sudden shout from the head of the group and Dwalin urged his mount to go faster but after a short distance he drew back the reins and brought his pony to a halt.
"We have reached the gate," he called, dismounting as the others reached him. They jumped to the ground and gathered around the entrance into mirkwood. Sara and Bilbo hung back, not quite so eager to proceed on the next leg of the journey being fully aware of its contents.
"So here lies our path through Mirkwood," said Balin, using his foot to scrape the fallen leaves off the pale paving stones that lay just under the dark reaching boughs above. It was silent as they all searched the oppressive gloom. The gnarled branches of the tall trees knit themselves into a thick weighty canopy that allowed little light to filter to the ground. Thick black vines adorned with long wicked thorns snaked their way over the trees and twined with the ivy that hugged the branches, clinging to every conceivable crevice. The smell of the forest was off. There was too much decay and rot that hung in the dense cool air, but it was not the rot of mulch but of something more… fleshy.
"This forest is sick," said Bilbo wrinkling his nose. "Must we really set foot on the path today or might we wait till tomorrow?"
"I'm with Bilbo," said Bofur. "I'd just as soon never set foot in there at all." Thorin took a few careful steps into the forest looking down at the narrow trail and then glanced at the late afternoon sun, debating.
"We should refill our water skins," suggested Dwalin. "There's a stand of trees over there and likely as not, fresh water." He pointed away from the forest out over the field to the West. Thorin considered several more seconds glancing at the dark forest once again before nodding.
"We will camp there and strike out early tomorrow," he agreed. The company seemed to breathe a collective and silent sigh of relief, turning to to remount their ponies. They rode about a mile and a half to the west and camped under the much more inviting limbs of several old oaks and towering pines, and several hours later found a much more cheerful and cordial disposition among the group. Fili and Kili had forgotten their earlier squabble, Bofur was engaged in the lively story about some drunk dwarf named Dolvir which had Sara in stitches, and Nori had relaxed somewhat, his hand no longer on his weapons. Even Thorin had rejoined the company at the fireside laughing along with the others, though his eyes often strayed to her, imploring, and she did her best to not notice him.
"Is was about this time that he noticed the goat had chewed a hole through the back side of his trousers and undergarments," finished Bofur to much raucous laughter. Sara's cheeks hurt from smiling so much as she rose to her feet.
"Here now lass," called Bofur. "Where are you going? Don't tell me my humor offends you."
"Bofur," she chuckled. "If it ever did I have long since gotten used to it. I'm just going to refill my waterskin." She held up the empty bladder.
"Want me to go with you?" asked Fili, from his spot beside her.
"No. I'll be right back," she said, aware of Thorin's watching eyes.
The stream was cool and clear as Sara dunked her water skin under the rippling surface. Capping her water she noticed several curled leaves nearby and set them adrift, watching their turbulent trip down the waterway. They had almost disappeared from sight when someone cleared their throat behind her, startling her so badly she would have pitched forward into the water had a hand not caught the collar of her shirt.
"I think it's time we resume yer training," said Dwalin, hauling her to her feet, only her knees and shoe tips having been wetted.
"But my hand still has not healed fully," she said, opening and closing her left fist. While the pain in large part had subsided and only the itching remained, Oin had still advised her against using her staff as it could damage the newly forming skin on her palm and lengthen her recovery. "That and the sun's about to set. I won't be able to see anything in a few minutes."
"For the training I have in mind ya won't need either, just yer ears."
"My ears?" she asked, confused.
"Aye, just yer ears," he said, grinning at her.
Several minutes later Sara found herself standing in the middle of a field of tall grass just outside the grove of trees��� blindfolded.
"And what exactly is the purpose of this exercise?" she asked, readjusting the heavy cloth tied over her eyes so she could peek at him.
"I told ya lass ya don't pay enough attention to yer surroundings." He took her hands away, pulling the blindfold back in place and slipped a handful of pebbles into her palm. "This is to help ya rely on things other than yer eyes. Ya trust them too much and yer other senses too little." She sighed, tucking all the stones save one into her pocket.
"Okay but what do I do?" she asked.
"Simple," he replied. "Hit me with those pebbles of yers. When ya have nailed me three times yer done for the night."
"All right but you have to keep talking."
"I will talk till ya hit me with the first one, the second I will only give ya an occasional hint and the third I will be quiet." She groaned letting her head fall back in exasperation.
"You have to be blindfolded too then. I want to actually be able to hit you and not just have you dodge." She wanted it to hurt when she hit him.
"I promise not to evade or block any of your throws," he vowed.
"And if he does I'll hit him for you," came Nori's voice to the left of them. Dwalin hurumped.
"You couldn't hit me if you tried," bragged the warrior. "Not unless you resorted to sneaking and ambushing."
"All is fair in love and war," quipped the thief.
"Hardly," said Dwalin. "It's a coward's way to skulk about." Sara could tell that Dwalin had stepped away from her and she listened carefully to his footfalls gauging his position.
"It's often more effective than hitting everything head-on," defended Nori. Sara listened for the warrior to speak again. He was only feet away.
"It's not the way of a…" but he broke off seconds after the stone left Sara's fingers. There was a thwack and Nori burst out laughing as Dwalin grumbled grumpily.
"Ha, nice shot Sara," applauded Nori.
"Thorin's right," groused the warrior. "You're a tricky, slippery minx." Sara shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly.
"I agree with Nori. There's no such thing as cheating when it comes to your life or the life of others. You do what it takes, whatever it takes. Besides we can't all be tanks like you."
"Very funny lass," said Dwalin, taking her by the shoulders and giving her a few good turns. "Now do it again and this time no cheating."
"I wasn't cheating," she insisted. "You weren't being cautious and you never said I couldn't start."
"Well I'm a saying it now," He and Nori bickered back and forth for several minutes, switching over to dwarvish. The warrior paced around changing direction occasionally. Five minutes had passed and she was on her seventh rock by the time she struck him.
"Well done," he praised. "Again only this time without so much chatter." Nori excused himself after she had spent three more pebbles and it was a good 15 minutes later, her supply more than half gone by the time she landed a hit again.
"All right lass, last round. Remember, rely on all yer senses. True, they may not be as keen as mine, but ya hardly have yet to hone them to their full potential." He handed her back some of her ammunition. "Yer going to need these, and don't ya dare remove that blindfold till ya have hit me or I'll make ya start again." She groaned again, her stomach growling right along with her. Bombur and Bilbo had been starting what smelled like a promising dinner about the time she had left. "Come now," he encouraged. "Ya can do it and then we'll both eat." His hands on her shoulders disappeared and she listened for him call a start, hoping to strike him when he did.
"Begin," he called to her left. She let fly a rock but it hit the ground. He was as good as his word, for not a sound from him did she hear. She stood absolutely still, pebble at the ready but there was no hint as to where Dwalin could be. The evening breeze blew through the grass and she could hear the whisper of the long blades rubbing against each other. She could almost hear her own heart along with the chirping crickets. The crickets! Now there was a way to help her. She listened intently and found that the chirping came from all directions save to her right. She turned her head to better hear that area and focused. There was the faint squeak and pop of leather and she let loose a stone.
"Close," he said and then it was silent. She listened to the crickets once again as they fell quiet to her left and then behind her. She turned to follow what she guessed to be his movement. Something landed on her cheek and she jumped shrieking at the sudden rasp of tiny legs on her skin. She brushed off the little offender, shivering.
"Tiss only a flicker bug lass, continue," called Dwain. She threw and missed again, cursing under her breath. The insect chirping came from all around now. The more she strained her ears the more frustrated she became. There was no sign of the warrior. Several minutes were spent thus, listening fruitlessly to the night sounds all around, her frustration mounting until she heard the approach of heavy boots from behind. He was being rather obvious but she would take whatever he handed out. She pulled the remaining pebbles from her pocket wanting to be sure of a hit. She was tired, her legs sore from riding all day and her stomach was empty. She just wanted to be done with this exercise. She waited till she could hear Dwalin a few feet behind her and then spun on her heels flinging the handful of pebbles at him satisfied when she heard them bounce off him and he hissed in pain.
"By Durin's beard! What was that for?" asked an angry voice that most definitely did not belong to Dwalin. Sara jerked the cloth from her eyes to see a cross Thorin glaring back at her in the moonlight, his eyebrows tilted dangerously as he stalked toward her.
"Th… Thorin! I'm sorry, I thought you were Dwalin."
"Do you make it a habit to fling handfuls of rocks at people or is this some strange Earth greeting you have yet to share with the rest of us?" he asked, coming to stare expectantly down at her, his arms folded.
"It wasn't my idea," she defended. "Dwalin said this was training so I would be more aware of my surroundings. He told me to throw rocks at him blindfolded." One of Thorin's eyebrows inched higher. "Well he did," she assured. "Where is he anyway?" She looked around to see that they were alone in the field lit by the half moon and the soft glow of fireflies that danced through the grass.
"Dwalin told me you wanted to speak to me," said Thorin. "Was it true?"
"Of course not," she snapped, irritated with a meddlesome warrior. Thorin drew back as though she had struck him across the face.
"I see," he said coolly, turning to leave.
"Thorin," she called. "I didn't mean it like that... I just … you … I was not expecting you. That's all. I thought I was training with Dwalin and it turns out he's tricked me."
He stopped and looked back at her. "It seems we were both misled. But it is clear to me that you still seek to avoid me, so I will leave you."
"I'm not avoiding you," she said out of polite habit, halting him again.
"You are a poor liar Sara," he said, stepping closer to her. He gazed down at her studying her face as a firefly flew between them, flickering. "Why have you been avoiding me?" She stared at the ground, her fingers fidgeting with the grass that brushed against her thighs. "What have I done to earn your animosity? What offense have I offered you?" His voice was earnest and pleading.
"None," she said quietly, not looking up. His fingers caught her chin forcing her to meet his eyes.
"Then why the aversion to me?" he asked gently. "Why did you run from me that day?" She wished she could tell him, but also dreaded the eventuality.
"I was upset and overwhelmed," she said, pulling her chin from his grasp.
"I don't know if that is an insult or compliment to my kisses," he said a little easier. She took a step away.
"It had nothing to do with your kisses," she said, kicking up the glowing insects as she made her way past him, intent on rejoining the others inside the trees. She was several yards from the tree line when he caught up to her grabbing her hand.
"Sara please," he said, spinning her around to face him, his hands falling to her waist. "Tell me what rift lies between us so I may work on repairing it. Why do you think I will leave you? I assure you I have no such intention, far from it." He paused, hesitating for just a moment before cupping her chin once again. "Sara I wish to court you, to take you as my own if you will permit it." Her eyes widened as she stared up at him in the dim light and her pulse ran faster. She and Bilbo had suspected Thorin had these intentions, but to hear him voice them aloud with such confidence set her heart racing, but it stilled as her conscience reminded her of the secret she still held from him. He was going to hate her when she told him, and the time she had to wait would only make it worse.
"We can't do this… I can't do this," she said pulling away from his heated gaze. She fled into the trees but was forced to slow as he tried to pick out sure footing in the dark. An arm closed around her waist hauling her back against a broad chest. She froze, hating herself for enjoying the feel of his strength all around her as he whispered in her ear.
"Sara please. Tell me what holds you from me?"
"Obviously nothing at this moment," she said, wiggling to get free. His grip loosen but only enough to allow her to turn around in his arms to face him. They stood in the shadow of a broad oak, its leaves blocking out the light of the moon and she could not see his expression as he spoke.
"Is it my race?" he asked. "Does it bother you that I am a dwarf and not a human as you are?"
"No," she said. In all honesty she often forgot there was a difference between them.
"My age?" he asked. She snorted.
"No. You hardly look your age."
"My position is King then?" he asked, his hand coming to rest against her cheek as he leaned toward her. She knew she should just turn and leave but his arms around her forbade her exit, besides this was a real question she still wanted an answer to.
"It has crossed my mind," she admitted. "I meant it when I said I didn't want to be a princess and certainly not a queen." He was quiet for several seconds and she wished she had better night vision.
"You really mean that don't you?" he said, pulling back several inches.
"What? Did you think I was kidding?"
"No, it's not that I don't believe you," he said. "It's just unusual to find someone who genuinely does not seek a position of power."
"I know how much baggage comes with it, or at least I can guess. I don't really want the added responsibility. I have enough on my plate as it is."
"You're not wrong," he admitted.
"Then I don't know how you intend to make me your own and not queen at the same time. I don't intend on becoming a concubine or anything like that." Thorin growled, making her jump as he pushed her slowly back against the oaks trunk, the bark pressing gently into her back.
"You think I would subject you to such?" he asked, his voice low and angry.
"Well how should I know how you planned to get around it. Obviously I don't know all there is to know about dwarves."
He took a deep breath, calming himself. "I have no such intentions. That sort of thing is unheard of among dwarves, even and especially for a king." He leaned closer to her, his breath warming her face as he planted his hands on the tree to either side of her head. "If and when the time came, I would step down as king and Fili would rule as has always been planned." She felt incredibly stupid that she hadn't thought about that before, but she had always supposed Thorin had to die for Fili to assume the throne.
"You would do that?" she asked.
"Yes," he said simply. "You are not wrong when you say that ruling a people is no easy task and I have been grooming Fili to take over since he was very young in the event that something should happen to me. I do not take it for granted that I will live forever as did my father and grandfather and I wished to see that my people had a competent ruler in my stead."
"So Fili would be king and you would be free?"
"Yes. As fate would have it I must best my nephew to win the right to court you, for I can't begin officially until his offer has been disproved. But after that Fili must in turn best me in combat to take the throne while I still live."
"So he has to lose to you and then he has to win?" she asked incredulously. It sounded just like a dwarf.
"Mmhum," he hummed, leaning closer still, his beard tickling the tender flesh over her neck and collarbone. His close proximity in the dark was doing pleasant things to her navel, but she pushed against his chest forcing the distance between them. He sighed. "What else stands between us?" he asked, not moving his hands which still boxed her in.
"I can't do this with you Thorin," she said. "Not yet. It's not right or fair of me."
"Why not?" he asked, leaning ever closer. "Though it's true I can not put a bead in your hair or claim certain privileges until you are free of my nephew's offer, it's not forbidden for me to be with you... to know you better... to woo you Sara." His lips brushed her jaw gently, sending a pleasant little shiver tripping down her spine. "Besides, Elrond's falcon is due back any day with my sister's reply." He set her heart skittering as he pressed a warm wet kiss to her neck.
"It's… it's not Fili," she moaned. Her thoughts were becoming more muddled by the second and although she pushed at him weakly, her heart was not really in it.
"Then what is it?" he mumbled, his lips leaving a fiery trial as he worked toward her jaw.
"It's me," she finally managed to get out. He froze.
"You do not care for me?" he asked, unmoving.
"I...I…" she stammered not wanting to lie but knowing she had to stop him. "It's not…" He pulled back a few inches so they were face to face.
"Sara," he asked. "Don't you hold any affection for me?" Of course she did and she ached to tell him so, but it would be wrong to let him go on while she still held a secret from him. Just a few more weeks and then she could tell him. They could not pass fast enough. Why could he not...
His lips met hers in a firm kiss, his tongue pushing forward when she gasped in surprise. All thought was obliterated as his hands slid to her lower back pulling her snuggly against his hips. Heat rushe through her from their points of contact. His kisses in the barn had been slow and soft, but these left her breathless with his vigor and excitement as he pushed her bodily against the tree, one of his hands coming up to cushion her head.
"Tell me you don't care for me," he challenged, breaking off to nuzzle her neck, pulling her earlobe between his teeth.
"I… auhhh… I can't," she gasped as her arms gave out. They slid up around his neck, her fingers twining into his hair. "I don't like lying to you Thorin."
"Then don't lie," he said, his teeth grazing her neck. "I told you you're a lousy liar." He returned to her mouth. She gave up fighting him and kissed him back, her blunt nails scratching his scalp before sliding down to his face. Her chest rose and fell haphazardly as her hearing faded in and out, the blood thundering through her ears. Unbidden and very unwelcome, the image of his lifeless eyes swam into her mind and she pushed him away roughly.
"Thorin no! I don't want to lie to you or lead you on," she repeated. He growled, this time in thwarted frustration.
"Then don't," he replied, his nose brushing her cheek. "You admit that you have feelings for me, why deny it?" His lips pressed gently to hers but she turned her head. She could stand it no longer. If the next few weeks were to be like this, constantly pushing him away... She had obviously overestimated his hurt and underestimated his determination, something that given normal circumstances, she would be grateful for. He pressed a soft kiss to her temple. "What is it Sara? Why do you turn away? Why lie to yourself or me?" She hesitated, dreading what would come next.
"I care for you very much Thorin, but I'm not being honest with you," she said. "I don't want to continue with you until I can be." He cupped her chin.
"Do you have a husband or lover back on Earth?" he asked evenly.
"What? No, no. I've never had a lover, only a few boyfriends but I never... we never... they all left me."
"You have never taken a lover to your bed?" he asked, sounding surprised.
"No," she said quietly. "I was never ready. That's why most of them left me in favor of someone else."
"Then they are fools not to wait for you," he said gently. "I will wait for you." She could not help herself.
"And you?" she asked. "Have you had a lover?" She felt foolish even asking. He was almost two centuries old, he had probably had dozens.
"No," he said brushing his lips across her forehead. "While I could not help but infer that it is commonplace for your kind on Earth by the simple existence of your strange preventative measures, dwarves take only one to their bed and only after they are wed. But tell me what is the secret you speak of? What terrible thing are you afraid would drive me from you? Is it something in your past, if so then it matters not. I still want you." The gentle press of his lips on hers reaffirmed his statement.
"It's not about my past," she said, determined now to tell him despite the consequences. "It's your future that worries me."
"There is no sense worrying over that which no one knows," he said, his lips grazing her forehead.
"But that's just it. I do know." The kisses stopped. "Thorin, I know your future. When I said you were going to leave me, it's because you're only going to live for three more months." His hands dropped from her as he stepped away, and she cursed the dark for obscuring his features.
"How could you possibly know such a thing?" he asked, his tone unreadable.
"I'm familiar with Middle-earth," she admitted. "I have been from the start. On Earth there are books about your world. Everyone believes them to be works of fiction, but as I found out that is not the case." He was silent so she kept talking. "Until recently I knew nothing about this quest but the vaguest idea behind its purpose and some of its key players. My knowledge pertained only to an event some 60 years or more in the future, but that changed the night I almost lost my locket."
"Go on," he said coolly, his arms folding.
"That night not only did I find out about my possible origins, but inside the locket, my grandmother left me a digital copy of the book called The Hobbit, a copy I could read on my phone."
"And what is significant about this book?"
She swallowed thickly. "It's about you and the company."
"And this book prophecies that I will die?" he asked the incredulity clear in his voice. She nodded. "This is nonsense. It is simply a book. Why do you set such store by pages blotted with ink." But he didn't sound as unconcerned as his words would suggest.
"It's proven mostly true so far Thorin. Not only that but I saw it and Lady galadriel's mirror as well." The words were thick and heavy in her mouth and moisture began to swell in her eyes. "It's… It's not just you who dies."
"Who else?" he asked, all traces of affection gone.
"Fili and Kili."
He didn't so much as flinch. It was quiet for many long minutes, her anxiety drowning out all other sounds for her as she waited for his reaction. When he did speak, his voice was like it had been in Bag End, full of disdain.
"I was wrong about you Ms. Miller. I trusted you and in turn you have made me a fool. You are indeed a most skillful liar," he said as he left her there, alone in the dark.