Words Like Wind ᚠ Thorin Oakenshield

twєntч-σnє: α lσng wαít

"Land of freedom, land of heroes
Land that gave us hope and memories,
Hear our singing, hear our longing
We will go home across the mountains."

Her mother had always said that when the fairies returned to Valinor they would travel across sea and meadows, through forests, and across mountains. She had done all those things, only Valinor was not her home, and now neither was Númenórë. She had made Middle-Earth into her home, from the rolling hills of the Shire to the cragged peaks of the White Mountains and every rock and crevice between. She was home.

"Við vilja fara heim, Við villja fara heim
Við vilja fara heim yfir bærghinn
Við vilja fara heim, Við villja fara heim
Við vilja fara heim yfir bærghinn.

We will go home, we will go home
We will go home across the mountains
We will go home, we will go home
We will go home across the mountains."

A hush fell over the hall and with her song alone the cheerful air that had been created by song and dance seemed to fade. Arethusa took the moment to pick up her skirts and flee from the hall as she feared nothing for the rest of the night could lift her spirits.

Arethusa sat at Thorin's side, his hand within hers. She looked at the dwarf king with a blank expression, or possibly it only appeared blank because of the numerous emotions displayed. Her necklace still hung around his neck, the white jewel was surprisingly dim in comparison to its usual gleam. If not for the thick bandages that encased his chest and the strip of cloth wrapped around his forehead he could have easily been considered asleep. She hadn't exactly known why she came to his room, at the moment, it felt like the place she needed to be. The moon must have been at its peak when Arethusa woke. Her back was stiff from the odd position and her eyes had to take several long moments to adjust to the low light of a dying fire. Before she left his room for her own the fairy tossed a few more coals and pieces of wood onto the fire and kissed his forehead.

The stone room that she had been placed in was empty, devoid of everything that comforted her, a bright red fire burned in the hearth, a magic flame that she could only sustain through concentration. The fairy frowned and turned to the mirror, picking up a golden comb to run through her hair. Everyone had adjusted to the change in her appearance rather quickly, but she couldn't help wondering what Thorin would think now that the strands had been stripped of color.

She had only just came from the wash, a coarse wool tunic scratching at her skin when the company's first healer surged into the room unexpectedly, fumbling around with his hearing trumpet. "Oín? Oín, what is it?" Her heart clenched as she expected to hear terrible news.

"It's Fili! We think he's beginning to wake!" She left in haste, not even the cold stone on her bare feet could slow her, nor the brisk air of mountain's interior on her exposed legs. The Brothers Ri stood outside the door, Balin and Bofur hovered around the bed with the waking dwarf. At Arethusa's presence they stepped back and watched as she laid her palm upon his forehead. "Fili?" Any tension that had been lurking within his body faded at her touch, the pain subsided.

The fairy sighed, a relief coming over her. ""Kili? Kili." At the dry utterance of his brother's name Arethusa glanced at the younger dwarf who laid naught but four feet away, his pale blue eyes darted around in a dazed panic as he tried to sit up. "He's going to be alright, Fili, but you must take care not to reopen your wounds." She pressed her hand to his shoulder, a silent command to lie back down that he heeded without protest. His breathing had grown labored, already he had exerted himself too much without realizing the severity of his state.

"Nori, will you bring food and water?" The dwarf nodded and left in haste with Dori trailing along. She turned to Bofur and Oín, "I'll be needing a fresh bandage." The two swiftly scurried off, risking the wrath of the fairy for not doing as they were asked was a thing they would rather remain a fable from battle. Nearly the entire company had gathered around the beds where Fili and Kili lie. With methodical ease, Arethusa undid the bandages from the dwarf's shoulder and chest. He had healed surprisingly well, and quickly, she doubted she would even need to rebandage it.