A Tale of Time

Chapter 3: Beads and Braiding

Kili eventually leaves, allowing her a bit more peace of mind and letting her lip finally receive blood flow as her teeth have been pinching it tightly. A small blessing comes her way though: a short vision of Thorin in her tent, smiling softly. It is one of the first visions like this that she has had since before the dragon was released – uncalled upon and simple. The idea of seeing something so important again terrifies her and with her nightmare being so alike them, she is grateful that her gift has almost disappeared.

A few more hours pass in solitude, her mind taken away by thoughts of the future. She doesn't even hear him come in.

"Gailien," Thorin greets, walking – well, limping – over to her with his staff crutch. "Are you doing alright? Kili said the guards wouldn't let him in."

Gailien looks up, a barely-there smile on her lips. "I'm fine," she mutters. "Just a rough night and I don't think I would have been a hospitable host."

"A host?" Thorin questions with a small smirk, sitting down next to her. "And is this tent your humble abode?"

"Humble?" she retorts back, playing on his humour. "Have you not used your eyes? It is magnificent, nothing humble about it."

"Well, if you think this is magnificent, then you will fall to your knees when you see the room I have prepared for you when you return."

"My room? To myself?"

Thorin nods, humming in affirmation. His fingers trail down her arm, tracing swirls. "We have been working hard to restore the rooms and common areas first. Everybody either has their own rooms or is sharing. Dain's men are staying in their camps."

She smiles to her lap. She hasn't had her own room in many months, especially not one that is specifically for her. "That will be nice," she says, resting her hand over his which still traces along her arm. "But I'm going to miss being surrounded by all of you."

"You may always join me in mine," he says, a soft tease in his voice as his free hand brushes away a loose strand of her hair. Gailien's smile widens with a small blush and laugh passing through her mouth. "Which also reminds me..." he digs into his coat pocket, pulling out something small and metal.

Gailien's shoulders sag in content, a large smile on her lips as she tilts her head to rest on his shoulders. "Thank you," she says, kissing his shoulder. She reaches out to take the small bead but Thorin pulls his hand away.

"Let me," he whispers into her ear. "That is how it is supposed to be done."

Thorin guides her in front of him, his leg resting on either side of hers which dangle over the edge, her back towards him, both wary of the other's injuries. Gailien laughs softly as she feels the comb beginning to brush through her hair. "I see you came prepared," she muses. The repetitive motion is soothing, metaphorically guiding the troubles out of her mind with each stroke.

"I had to make up for my pathetic attempt last time," he retorts. "I cannot believe I even let you put it in yourself."

"I think you forget that I wouldn't have known any different. Though it wasn't exactly romantic at the time, the thought was still there." Her head pulls down to the side slightly as he combs through her knotted ends (she should have just cut them.) "I won't lie, Thorin. I know you weren't yourself, but it really hurt when you threw the other one away."

"And for that-" he stops combing, leaning down to bury his head in the side of her neck, "-I can never apologise enough. I tried to find it – we searched for hours but the damn thing disappeared." His arms wind around her waist, his chest resting on her left shoulder as he looks over it. In front of her, his palm opens, showing her the bead again. "But this one is made of a much finer metal, and better craftsmanship."