Rue (A Thorin Oakenshield/Hobbit Fanfiction)

21

The Company had traveled all day long during the poor weather, much to their dissatisfaction. Oin grumbled as he emptied the water out of his hearing aid, while Dori complained to Gandalf about the deluge. Fili and Kili shivered in their clothes, which were entirely soaked through, as they talked and played games to pass the time. Bilbo, as questioning as always, had struck up a conversation with the wizard about others of his kind.

Thorin and Talia rode on ahead of the Company, listening to their chatter and thinking of their conversation of the evening before. Thorin could not understand how Talia remained so strong, and Talia could not understand how Thorin could hold so tightly onto the past. However, they both had made their peace, and they led to Company in a comfortable silence. Snapping back to reality, Talia nearly fell off her horse after hearing Bilbo unknowingly insult the Grey Wizard. She laughed so loud that she threw her head back, her hood falling to her shoulders. Her hair became soaking wet, and her mouth was open so wide that she could taste the rain. Thorin thought Mahal himself had heard her, though she had never looked more beautiful to him than in that moment.

Eventually, the storm cleared, and the Company approached an abandoned house, though it was far from ordinary. Gandalf and Talia rode closer to the home, taking in the broken frames and torn shingles. They exchanged a look, knowing that whatever occurred here had been, and could still be, a dangerous threat.

But before they could interject, Thorin spoke up. "We'll camp here for the night." Their leader said, dismounting his steed and passing the reigns to his nephew. "Fili, Ki­li, look after the ponies. Make sure you stay with them."

"A farmer and his family used to live here." Gandalf murmured softly to himself. He ran his hands along the ruined doorway with Talia in tow, her gaze following his upon the action.

"Oin, Gloin."

"Aye?"

"Get the fire going."

"Right you are."

"I think it would be wiser to move on." Gandalf interrupted, turning to face Thorin. "We could make for the Hidden Valley." He suggested, moving closer to the King. Talia watched their conversation progress as she leaned on the remnants of a stone chimney, her eyes narrowing from the borders of the shadows.

"But I've told you already. I will not go near that place." Thorin rebuffed, his voice firm.

"Why not? The Elves could help us." Gandalf asked, not willing to give into the pigheadedness of the dwarves. "We could get food, rest, advice."

"I do not need their advice."

"We have a map that we cannot read. Lord Elrond could help us."

Talia considered both the words of her husband and friend, her eyes shifting between each character. She hadn't even known there were instructions to be deciphered, and now that she knew her husband had blatantly ignored them, she knew that Gandalf was right. She understood where Thorin's hatred of Elves came from, for she had felt a similar pain from their actions on that fateful day. But it would be foolish to deny themselves the wisdom of Elrond, Lord of Rivendell, especially when they needed it most.

"Elrond's people were not the Elves that betrayed us." Talia began, lifting herself off the stone and walking forward. "If going to Rivendell will aid our quest, then we must not throw away such help."

"Help?" Thorin asked, his voice low in warning. "Talia, they will not help us. A dragon attacks Erebor. What help came from the Elves? Orcs plunder Moria, desecrate our sacred halls. The Elves looked on and did nothing!"

"Thorin!" Talia snapped, her green eyes stormy. "The only people that betrayed us were those of the Woodland Realm. The Silvan Elves are less wise and more dangerous than their counterparts. Those that reside within the Hidden Valley, however, are different. We must go to Lord Elrond."