Esja shifted slightly to fit more closely against him. Just a moment longer, she told herself. Please. Just a moment to try and express to him everything I thought I had a lifetime to say. Just a moment to impress the feel of him on my soul, another moment to memorize the feel of his body wrapped in mine. Just one more chance to listen to the steady sound of his heart and let his hand tangle my hair. Just a moment more to be free of this world and wrapped in his.
It was the memory of his son's faces that brought her back to the world. Their familiar features and bewildered looks. Reminding her that her time had passed.
Esja unclasped her hands and let her palms slide from his back. She stepped back from him. He still held her braid and watched it slip from his fingers. Esja reached back to pull her hood up but stopped at his voice.
"Leave it down?" he asked. "Please."
She did.
Softly clearing her throat, she said, "I have come to speak with you about the mountain."
Thorin closed his eyes and shook his head a bit, "Esja."
"Thorin, we must talk about the mountain before you go any further."
At her words, Thorin turned away.
"You must listen to me," she said. "I have lived in the shadow of this mountain all this time, and I tell you now, I know you will not find our former home unguarded."
He turned back to her, "You've been here?" he said, "All this time?"
"No, not here." she reassured him, "But on the western edge of the Iron Hills," she said.
He nodded, his stance easing.
"Smaug has not been seen in an age," he said.
"And the birds return to Lonely Mountain," she said. "You intend to fly in from the roof, as well? I know you have not forgotten the main gates are sealed."
Reaching around his neck, he pulled a gold chain from under his clothes. Esja saw a fine dwarven key dangling from it.
"I am no bird, nor do I intend to knock at the front door," he said.
Esja eyed the heavy key, "You believe he overlooked this one?"
Thorin nodded.
"Do you think you will not wake him?"
He would not meet her eye, "I think it is time for dwarves to return to Erebor."
"And you think Smaug will walk out the way he came? He will bring the mountain down on you all before ever he cedes his horde. Surely you have not grown that dim!"
Thorin's jaw tightened at her words, "It is time."
"It.. it is time? I tell you that the wyrm only sleeps, that you go to raise death and destruction and you.. you say, "It is time"?" Esja shook her head in disbelief, setting her veil to flashing in the moonlight. She turned her gaze to the darkened ruin of Dale.
"Why do you wear that?"
Her fingers touched the upper edge of her veil, " That is not.. that does not matter. Have you heard anything I've said?" she whispered.
"You know I have."
"You don't have to do this. Please, do not do this!"
Thorin looked up at the Lonely Mountain, "I am the only one who can do this." He turned back and stepped close to her again, "I will do it." he said.
"And your sons? Do you willingly offer your sons, a sacrifice, if you fail?" she countered, holding his gaze.
"My...sons?"
"The elder has much of your bearing and a deep thoughtfulness about him. Fili, I believe," she said.
Thorin finally managed a smile and looked to the ground, his unbound hair falling forward. Esja automatically tucked it behind his ear, running a finger down his braid.
"And the younger, Kili, Durin help you. He has something of your younger self's look but is far less serious and perhaps a bit more handsome. He is brash and brave. He will be trouble, that one."
"He already is," he said.
Esja nodded, her gaze dropping to their feet. She recoiled when she felt his fingers begin to trace the finely wrought chain that held her veil in place and refused to meet his eyes.
Thorin withdrew his hand, "They are not my sons. Though I have tried to be a father to them." he said. "They belong to Dis and are here because even their uncle's command would not stay them."
Esja looked at him, uncomprehending for a moment. He waited for her to understand.
"Your nephews?" she asked.
"The heirs of the Line of Durin," he said.
"But, Frerin?" she asked.
"Dead, at Azanulbizar, he had not married."
'And you?"
"I.." he paused, "you were taken from me. There was never another."
As the weight of his statement settled upon her, Esja brought her hand to her mouth, pressing cold links of mithril to her lips to still them. Forbidding herself to remember, she instead focused her mind on his young nephews.
"Thorin, you must send them home!"
"Do you think I have not tried?" Thorin asked.
"You must make them understand." Esja couldn't continue.
"You want me to ask them to make that choice? You, want me to ask them to sacrifice themselves for the sake of their name?"
Esja felt her heart breaking, "I would have no more dwarven lives sacrificed on the altar of that dying dream. Nor would I deny you your home."
She felt him behind her, his face against her hair.
"But?" he said, smoothing his hands down her arms, lightly clasping her fingers.
"But I would beg you to return to the peace of the Blue Mountains. I would beg you to die in your bed, old and infirm. I would beg, Thorin. But I know it will not change you. I know your heart. I know it lies here, bonded to Erebor and the Line of Durin. I know the possibility of defeat must tear at you, as does the dream of success. I know you fear that your grandfather's and your father's failings will be renewed in you. You grieve at either price, not for yourself, but the sake of your friends." Esja sighed, "I do not pretend to know all the steps that have brought you here, though I wish they had carried me as well. But this, I do know, you will see it accomplished."
Thorin stood for a moment, basked in her quiet confidence. How long had it been since anyone had spoken his thoughts to him, understood his desire, shone a light on his shadowed fears, and said, I know you will. How many times had he imagined her soft hand on his arm, reminding him to stop and think? How many questions had he asked her memory, searching for her wisdom, remembering her wit? He felt her hand move, pulling out from under his, and he tightened his grip. She arched a fine eyebrow at him and pulled her hand again. He wouldn't let go.
"Have you come to disregard all dwarven manners, living among the untamed in the west?" she asked.
"Would you deny me even the sight your face after all these years?"
Esja shook her head regretfully, setting her veil to jingling, "In that alone, I have become accomplished. Denial."
"You were never so accomplished at it, with me," he said.
Esja smiled, "Yes, though I remember a time when you were weak, and I was strong."
"Are you sure it was me?" he asked.
"There was never another," she said.
He lifted his hand again to her veil, but she caught his fingers, "Please don't."
He brought her fingers to his mouth and brushed a soft kiss across them, "Does it matter so much to you?"
"It hasn't, for a long time. But, here, in front of you? Yes, my vanity returns," she said.
"I would have hoped that I was the only person in this world, with whom it wouldn't matter," he said. "What happened? When did it happen?"
Esja thought for a moment, "You may find this hard to believe, but I became rather difficult to manage after, after the-when you were gone." she said. "I kept... leaving, and Esra was getting tired of dragging me back to Dain's court. You see, the last time I ra..left, I made it as far as the River Anduin. When he finally got me back, he and mother thought to discourage me from leaving again by making it likely I wouldn't want to be seen. In truth, they did me a favor. I was shunned in Dain's court. Left to my own, just as I wished.
"Oh, mother still tried to make use of me. A few years later, she made a betrothal agreement with a merchant from Dunland. She was sure her worries were behind her and renewed prosperity ahead. It was unfortunate that when the prince arrived, he found me very much to his liking, even with this confounded veil..."
Thorin folded his arms across her chest, "Unfortunate?" he asked.
"Unfortunate for him because I found his touch offensive and proceeded to remove several of his fingers from his person," she said, pausing as Thorin muffled a laugh in her hair. "There were, of course, no further betrothals after that, and one night shortly after my fifty-first birthday, I left.
"Mother and Esra assumed I had gone after you again, but I hadn't." Esja paused, "You see, on that last run to the River Anduin and before Esra caught up with me, I had stood on the eastern shore and stared in awe at the Misty Mountains. I realized something then that I had never supposed. I am rather small, and the world, rather large. I had asked all whom I passed about dwarves, but none had seen or heard of you. You had disappeared into the vastness of the world, and I didn't know where to look for you. So when I finally left Dain's court, I went as far west in the Iron Hills as possible. I found a small village on the very edge of the mountains. From there, I could just see the Lonely Mountain. With what little knowledge I had of healing, I was able to make a place for myself. I have lived there, watching the mountain."
"And now?"
"Now? I had not thought to get this far. Now, I only know this," she said, turning to face him. "I will not be left again. I am afraid that all these years on my own have made me selfish and bad-tempered. You will not find me as docile as I was the first time. I warn you."
"I will be careful then," he said. "Remove the veil. It has no place between us. You know I have never thought to command you, but I would ask you to let me see your face. Please."
"Thorin, you know the shaming, it-."
'I know. Show me." he said.
She lowered her head, lifted the delicate frames off her ears, removing the chain and veil from her face. She clutched it so tightly the links dug into the soft skin of her palm.
Thorin lifted her face to his. She watched his eyes as he surveyed her flushed and naked skin. It wasn't until he tried to touch her smoothly shorn cheeks that she realized she was crying. She turned her head, instinctively avoiding his hand.
"It never grew back. I don't know why," she whispered.
His hand under her hair urged her back to him, and he brushed his lips across hers.
He lifted his head, "It doesn't matter," he said.
"It matters," she said. "I'm not allowed to show my face. You know that."
"Except to me."
"Especially not to you."
He kissed her again.
" Why have you kept it so short?" she asked, stroking his beard.
"To remind me."
"Of Erebor?"
"No."
"What then?"
"All that was lost and that which I can never reclaim," he said.
Esja wrapped her arms around him again, laying her head on his shoulder, "What now?"
"Tomorrow, we begin to search the mountain," he said. "We are running out of time."
As if to underscore their plight, Balin stalked into the clearing, sword in hand, "What, in Durin's name, are they talking about?" he asked.
Esja turned her face to his, then lifted her veil, but Thorin held her.
She watched the snowy-bearded dwarf as he took in her face, his eyes filling as he dropped his sword.
Opening his arms, he approached her, "Esja!"
Thorin let her go, only because he knew Balin would not be denied. Balin's tears fell silently in her hair.
She laid her cheek against his, "Crazy dwarf, I see it all finally grew back." she said, giving his beard a gentle pull.
"I knew I wasn't losing my mind!" Balin declared, clearing his throat.
"What?" she asked, looking at Thorin.
He smiled at them and handed her her veil, "Come, wear it if it comforts you, but I warn you the rest of our company are worse than the two of us, and you will find they tolerate it no better." he said.