Iron and Oak

Chapter Two

Balin awoke with a grunt. He glanced around quickly, assessing the camp. Seeing nothing amiss, he settled back.  

"Bad dream?"  

Balin turned slightly toward Thorin at the question. "No." 

"A good one, then." Thorin offered, almost smiling. 

"No," Balin said.

"Finding it hard to sleep in your old age?" 

"Only since taking up with you." 

Thorin grunted and went back to studying his map.

Balin leaned his head back, wondering what Thorin would say did he describe to him the last vision of his dream. It had been the same dream every night since they left the hobbit's home. A dwarven woman draped in a fur blanket, standing alone on a granite ledge. Her face was easily discernible in the moonlight. Lush curling hair, the color of burnished gold falling about her, fluttering against her cheek in the wind. Though he cannot see them clearly in the moonlight, he knows her eyes to be deep forest green, flecked with blue, a combination that puts to shade the finest malachite ever found in Lonely Mountain. Her lips move, her eyes close. Thorin is all she says. Balin did not hear the word spoken in his dream, but when he awoke, the sound of her voice reverberated in his head. There is something in the dream that bothers him. Something he can't quite capture. Something wrong.

Balin shakes his head. What more could go wrong for her?  She is not with Thorin.  Balin understood Thorin's decision, made long ago amid the smoking ruin of Dale.  He has just never agreed with it.  And in all the years since, Thorin has done naught to prove him wrong. If Thorin could not find her better in one hundred and seventy-one years, there is none. Which is what Balin had told him...one hundred and seventy-one years ago.  

As if the weight of all those years was suddenly more than he could bear, Balin stood, stretching.  

Without lifting his head, Thorin noted, "You might find you would sleep better after telling me whatever it is that has disturbed you these past several nights. You've never been one to keep your council to yourself." 

"I am not sure what disturbs me," Balin huffed.

Thorin looked up at his oldest friend. Balin turned as if to speak but changed his mind and pulled on his gloves.

"I'll go check on Bofur; he's probably fallen asleep on watch."

Thorin turned his attention back to his map. It frustrated him mightily that he could not discover the secret it kept even with his vast knowledge of dwarven history. The map blurs in front of his eyes as he considers the many unexpected turns he has dealt with since taking on this journey. First of all, Gandalf, the wizard, raised his blood pressure just with his existence. Then learning his company would stand alone in this quest, then the hobbit, and now by ancient secrets hidden on a map. Sighing, he folded the map with care and slipped it back inside his coat. Esja would laugh herself to hysterics at the thought of him needing a map of Lonely Mountain. Thorin smiled to himself before the full weight of that thought hit him.  

"Esja," he whispered. 

Just the sound of her name was enough to rend him from head to heart. And before he can stop it, her face and form materialize in his mind: her thick curls and generous curves, her snapping eyes and teasing mouth. The smell of the Jessamine flowers she always filled her pockets with. Suddenly her face is streaked with blood and tears, her hands grasping at his, scrabbling at his boots when she falls. Dara is screeching at her, tearing at her clothing and hurling invectives at him. Esra, her older brother, running to help his mother, grabs Esja by her beautiful hair and drags her out of sight into the smoldering ruin of Dale. Thorin stopped Balin from interfering, and then, with head bowed, he listened to her scream his name until she was silenced. 

"Thorin?" 

Startled, Thorin answered far more harshly than he meant to, "What is it!" 

Kili stepped back, "The ponies are ready; we're ready to go." 

Thorin nodded, the memory retreated. "Well done, Kili. We're getting an even earlier start today." 

Kili nodded, pleased his uncle noticed, and they walked together to join the rest of the company.