I had just come down from my room when Thorin knocked on the door, having added something new to my usual fighting attire, though no one could see it because I had it hidden inside my blouse. When Thorin walked in, I was tightening the shoulder belt that held the scabbard behind my back, concealed by the cloak I wore over my dress.
"You can leave your coat on the chair, my prince," I said, feeling his eyes watching me as I smoothed the cloak over myself, my face still hidden in half shadow.
"Where are you going?" He asked, his tone soft as a faint smile graced his lips.
"Jürgen is teaching me sword fighting," I said, embarrassed. Many of the townspeople did not believe that a woman should learn such skill, that it was only for men to learn. But Jürgen knew better, and I had grown to look forward to such sessions with him. Just as it afforded him an escape from the heat of his forge, so it gave me a chance to breathe open air after spending too long inside the house. "I believe he has already left and will be upset if I am late."
As Thorin stepped out of the door and I shut the door behind me, I found that he was still standing there watching me as I pocketed my key. Though he was sweaty from all the work he had just done, the braids that hung alongside his face loose in places, Thorin was still as handsome as ever. No sweat or dirt could mar that face, I found myself thinking — and blushing as soon as I realized my thoughts. I picked up the basket I had set down on the ground before locking the door and Thorin reached to take it from my hand.
"Allow me, my lady," he said. "May I walk with you to wherever you are meeting Master Jürgen?"
I nodded, and we began walking through the cobblestone walkway, aware that people were watching us. I kept my head down as we passed the inn though I saw Farmer Nager catch sight of us, his eyes widening in surprise at the dwarf who walked next to me.
Without his princely coat, Thorin still cut a formidable figure. Though he stood shorter than most, if not all, men in the town of Greenbanú, the dwarf prince had a bearing like no other man I had ever known — except for Lialam, of course, who considered himself superior to everyone because of his wealth. But with Thorin, it was different. The greatness in his bearing flowed in his veins and it radiated from his eyes, making me look away from him each time I turned to glance at him to answer a question about the town or the places that we walked past.
"Have you lived here all your life, my lady?" He asked.
"Yes," I replied. "For as long as I can remember. And please, call me Aleana. There is no need to address me as a lady. Here in Greenbanú, that is what I'm called."
When he was about to say the words again, I touched his arm and he stopped to look at me.
"I insist, my lord," I said. "I am no lady. I am only a seamstress."
He smiled, and a sparkle traveled to his eyes, making them seem bluer than they were. "Then I shall insist that you stop calling me 'my lord' or 'my prince' as well, because here, in your town, I am only a smith."
I chuckled beneath my breath, nodding in agreement. I'd completely forgotten all about our exchange in Khuzdul earlier, relieved that he had not mentioned it as well. For a few moments we did not talk but continued walking, our boots barely making a sound over the cobblestoned sidewalk till we reached the edge of town. But our walk had attracted more than just the attention of the townspeople, for another dwarf begun to follow us, though he kept his distance.
He was a formidable one, judging from his bearing. He was slightly taller than Thorin but with broader shoulders and dark hair that grew straight up in a strip along the middle of his head, from hairline to the back of his head, leaving the sides bald except for tattoos of dwarven runes. I glanced at Thorin to see if he had noticed, but he hadn't. He simply kept walking alongside me, carrying the basket in one hand.
"Are you sure you want to continue?" I asked. "You must be tired from working all day."
Thorin shook his head. "I would love to breathe fresh air myself, my-," he paused, bent his head for a moment before looking back at me. "Aleanna."
I shrugged. From here, we would follow a path towards the grassy knoll where Jürgen would be waiting. I knew he would be surprised that I'd brought a guest, but it seemed that I did not have a choice, although I had to admit that I liked having Thorin walking next to me. Even without his princely coat, he radiated a masculinity that I found my body responding to, my cheeks blushing at the thought of his hand touching my face.
During our walk, I asked Thorin how long they intended to stay in the town, knowing that just like the first wave of dwarves who had come before him, he would leave as soon as he and his people would gather enough supplies for their migration south.
"We leave in a fortnight," Thorin replied, his eyes watching my face longer than I was comfortable being gazed at. "We need to head south of Mirkwood before traveling west through Rohan while the weather remains cool. Maybe we will stop at Dunland for some time, for it is a town big enough to house the dwarves who have come with me." He sighed. "It will be difficult for my people when winter comes if we wait too long."
"Our town is quite small to accommodate all your dwarves?" I asked.
Thorin nodded. "We have set camp just south of the town," he said. "The able-bodied seek work in this town as well as the neighboring town, so we can replenish our supplies for the journey."
"Are they many wounded?" I asked.
"Yes, there are some. Most of the wounded journeyd to the Iron Hills but a few have insisted on coming on this journey. Yet we manage," he added proudly.
For a few minutes we were silent, and I realized then that I would miss Thorin's company, even though I'd barely had time to get to know him. I was only the seamstress tasked to fix his coat after all.
"Tell me about the town," Thorin said as he glanced back at the town behind us, the figure of the lone dwarf following us now visible even to him, yet he did not question it. Around us the birds were singing and a light breeze blew from the East, ruffling his dark hair.
"Greenbanú is a small town, much smaller than most towns you have probably stayed in," I began. "But we are blessed with the forest to the West and River Running to the north of us from where many streams flow to give us our water. You must have passed the Old Forest Road before coming here as well, which cuts through Mirkwood though it is dangerous to use because of goblins."
I became silent again, realizing that it was goblins that had slain my parents as they traveled with a caravan along the Road. Thorin did not say anything, choosing instead to be silent as we began to follow the path going up the hill.
"Our town does not have a formal Master or leader but Lialam takes on that role simply because he is the wealthiest and owns most of the buildings that you see." At this I turned around so that we were looking down on the town before us. I pointed to a two story structure at the western edge of town bordered by a high gate. "That is Lialam's house."
"It is closest to the forest," Thorin remarked and I nodded. "But didn't you say goblins lurk in the forest? Isn't he afraid?"
I shook my head. "Goblins are found much deeper within the forest, I believe, and also much closer to the Misty Mountains to the west of us."
"You are well versed with your geography, Aleanna," Thorin said and I found myself reddening at the sound of my name leaving his lips. I turned around and followed the path again, hoping he did not notice though my hood still covered most of my face.
"There is not much to do in town other than read books and maps," I said. "Or sit with Inge and learn about her herbal concoctions, which can be quite boring and can leave one of marriageable age without a partner at all."
"And that is all that you do besides your sewing?" Thorin asked, ignoring my last sentence. "Or your sword fighting, which I am about to see?"
I chuckled. "I'm afraid there isn't much to see concerning my sword-fighting, Thorin. I have much to learn still."
"There is always much to learn in everything," Thorin said softly as we finally reached the top of the hill and found Jürgen already going through his routine. As he looked towards us, an expression of surprise came upon his face followed by a wide grin. He called Thorin's name and welcomed him.
"Where is Berndt?" I asked. Berndt would have been already here as well, but the hilltop only had its lone occupant, Jürgen and his horse, now joined by Thorin and myself, though I knew that the dwarf following us was not far behind. I wondered why Thorin had not noticed him, or said anything if he did.
"He is not coming," Jürgen said, heaving a sigh. "He said there was too much work in the stables, though I suspect we will later find him drinking at the inn."
Before Jürgen and I could start our practice session, the dwarf following us finally arrived and Thorin introduced him as Dwalin, son of Fundin, a trusted friend who had accompanied him from Erebor. Dwalin worked in the mines east of the town and I could smell the scent of metal on him. It clung to his skin and his clothes. And his hair that sprouted as if on spikes along the middl of his scalp.
Dwalin frowned as he watched me pull my sword from its scabbard, his eyes widening at the sight of the wide blade. Thorin noticed it, too.
"That is a dwarven sword," Dwalin said in a gruff voice and Jürgen laughed, agreeing.
"Of course, it is," he said. "I made it especially for Aleana because all my other swords are too long for her to wield. This one is perfect for her, but I would not call it a real dwarven sword for it is only a poor copy of one."
Thorin and Dwalin asked to inspect my sword and I handed it to them, leaving them to discuss the intricacies of Jürgen's handiwork as I approached Jürgen and stood alongside him to begin the smooth warm up movements he taught me. But my cloak was still on so I undid the clasp at my neck and set my cloak on the ground.
I touched the sides of my face, hoping the skin was as smooth as it should be. Inge had taught me how to keep my skin as soft as a baby's bottom using sugar, water and the juice of a lemon boiled into a sticky paste that I stored in an earthenware jar. She told me that the more often I did it, the less the hair would grow till none would grow anymore. But it had been years since I'd started, and still the hair on the sides of my jaw grew much like beards on men if I did not do as Inge instructed.
But then so did the beards continue to grow on the old Mathilda sisters, I thought to myself. Maybe that was the way it worked for most women as they got older, though I was much too young to worry about such things. You were just born with much hair, child, my mother used to tell me. Berndt was much the same way.
"But Berndt is a man, mother," I remember whining then, to which Berndt would respond that of course he was a man. What else could he be?
"You look fine," Jürgen said, chuckling as he watched me smooth my hair nervously. I had braided my long blonde hair into one thick braid that I wound into a bun just above my neckline and held in place with a thin net ornament that Inge made for me.
"Whose idea was it to take him with you?" Jürgen asked.
I glanced at the two dwarves still talking, though their attention was no longer on the blade before them but towards Jürgen and I. "He asked me if he could walk me here," I whispered. "I did not think he was going to stay and watch."
"Well, it seems that's exactly what he and Dwalin are set on doing," Jürgen said, chuckling. "Maybe this will prove to be an incentive for you to finally start showing me what you've learned so far, child."
From the saddle bags, Jürgen retrieved two wooden swords and handed one to me. He must have traveled along the back horse trail that led towards the hill, I thought, the path that cut through the edge of the forest below. Berndt and I had often taken the same forest trail from the stables to get here in the past. It was in this forest where Jürgen showed me more than just how to fight with swords, but how to hunt game just like he and Berndt did. He even knew the secret path that led to the waterfall that only we knew about.
But it had been almost a year since we'd been into the forest, our lives having gotten busier since the first of the dwarves started streaming through the town months earlier. The first wave of dwarves had told us about Smaug and the devastation of Erebor and the town of Dale. And with the dwarves came the survivors of Dale themselves, their clothes blackened from smoke and some of them dying before any of Inge's potions could help them.
The men and women's vivid stories of Smaug's destruction had stirred so much fear in the townspeople and even now, with the next wave of dwarves having arrived with the young prince of Erebor himself, Thorin, it only made the fear even more potent. I watched as their hands trembled as they told their tales, wishing that they'd stop recounting the nightmare of the dragon to help themselves begin to heal. But telling their stories was part of their healing and so Inge and I would let them continue.
But it was the dwarves who never said anything that told me the most of what had happened to them, their faces stoic and unyielding though their eyes told me everything I needed to know. But in their eyes, I also saw something else — a look of bafflement followed by the narrowing of their eyes just before a flash of recognition at the sight of something familiar.
Yet unfamiliar.
Thorin's voice shouting out my name brought me back to the present and I found myself staring at a wooden sword heading straight towards me. I stepped back and brought my own wooden sword in front of me, feeling the handle vibrate in my hands as wood hit wood. I pushed back against him with a grunt escaping my chest, forcing Jürgen to retreat from the very same moves he'd taught me long ago. If we had been fighting with real swords, I thought, I would have been dead.
Jürgen had taught Berndt and I a series of gracefully executed moves designed to maximize our growing skills with the sword, and with practice, even I had to admit that I didn't look too terrible, even in my usual outfit of a loose blouse tucked into a skirt and over that, an overcoat.
But one of the advantages of being a seamstress was the ability to design my own clothes. And while I would never design lovely gowns for myself, I did make a few alterations to my dress so that I could do things unencumbered by skirts and flowing fabric. I had sewn myself a pair of trousers, much like Berndt's, close fitting and tapered along the ankle so that I could slip it into a pair of leather boots and move around like a man if I needed to.
During Jürgen's training sessions, I'd been tripped by my own skirts as well as burdened by the thought that when I fell on the ground, someone could see my underthings. Now that would be embarrassing. And so with trousers underneath the skirt that I wore, one that could easily come off when needed, I was able to fight without any worries of exposing myself or breaking my neck. I could focus on holding the broad sword with both hands and wield it just like Jürgen did so effortlessly. I'd long grown accustomed to its weight and even now, Jürgen remarked at how smoothly I appeared to slice the air around me with the wooden blade.
"Just don't give yourself a splinter when you're too busy daydreaming instead of fighting," Jürgen joked as I gave him an angry stare. But Jürgen's gaze traveled from my face down to my chest where his eyes widened at what he saw and I brought my hands towards that which I had kept hidden beneath my blouse.
The ties along the neckline had loosened, and the child's necklace glistened in the light of the afternoon sun. The rubies and the emeralds nestled in their gold fittings lay cool against my skin, the end of the necklace made longer by the attachment of leather thongs that allowed me to slip the necklace over my neck. What had possessed me to wear it now, of all times? I asked myself. But even I had no answers for the desire to feel it against my skin proved greater than any of my rational mind's excuses not to.
"Aleanna, cover it up!" Jürgen hissed beneath his breath as I shielded the jewels with my fingers and began fastening the ties of my blouse together. But even as I managed to keep the necklace hidden again, it was too late. Thorin and Dwalin had both seen it, too.
They strode towards me, their eyes set on the treasure now hidden beneath my blouse. Jürgen stepped in front of me to block Thorin from approaching me, but Thorin spoke to him in a low tone, saying something I could not hear. As I took another step back, Jürgen allowed the prince to pass.
The silence between us was deafening. As Thorin drew closer, the scent of his masculinity and that of the sweat that had gathered on my skin while I practiced mingling in the air between us, I found myself trembling, my fingers loosening the tie once again so Thorin could see what it was that I had tried to hide.
It was as if an unspoken command had been spoken, a request that needed no words to be said. And when Thorin finally did speak, he did so in Khuzdul.
"I know you now," Thorin said, his fingers lifting my chin up to face him. It was a bold move on his part to touch me like he did, his voice smooth and low as a man speaks to his beloved.
For my real name was just as Thorin whispered. Beloved.
And even Jürgen knew then that the truth refused to be hidden in the dark forever.