Arien could barely hear the thud of her footfalls on the forest floor as she ran and ran and ran, the wind springing tears in her eyes. She could only just see in front of her, her path lit by the full moon's silvery light. She didn't know where, or to what end she ran, but she just needed to get away, just needed... to be alone. She was almost blinded by the fear that had settled in her core and stayed there, raging and thrashing like a caged animal.
She skidded to a stop as she reached a small clearing hemmed with pine trees on all sides and put her hands on her knees, panting with exertion. Pain from a stitch in her side rippled through her body, so much so that she didn't hear the unnaturally loud rustle of the bushes around her. Didn't see the dull glint of the sword drawn from the deep shadows of the trees.
Not until the orc's body slammed into her and sent her crashing to the forest floor.
Arien screamed, thrashing, trying to roll away from the orc, but it gripped her shoulder and hauled her up.
And Arien felt the cold steel of a blade pressed against her throat.
Her breath sucked in through her teeth.
More orcs materialised from the trees, circling her and her captor like hungry wolves in anticipation of a feast.
"Mother!"
The scream shattered from Arien's throat before she could stop it.
The orc laughed even as it pressed the knife harder into her throat. Skin split, and blood began to trickle down her neck and onto her clothes.
"Your mother won't come to you, silly girl." The orc licked its lips. "Her blood tasted so fresh, her fear and guilt and pain so delicious to behold. Do you know we had her begging us? A hundred years ago, we had your mother begging us to end it when we tortured her until she broke."
Everything went still. Arien was trembling. Not with fear, but with a blinding, hopeless rage.
"Of course I, being merciful, obliged and killed her, but all I'll say is that her death was certainly not a fast one. Or a –– what do you call it? –– a kind one."
The roaring in her head had been replaced by silence. By a numbness that seized her very bones.
She couldn't move, couldn't do anything except seethe with rage and grief.
"And now," the orc hissed, somehow managing to make the Common Tongue sound just as hideous as its own. "We're going to kill you."
Arien couldn't bring herself to care.
She had gone limp in the orc's grip.
She closed her eyes, readying to feel the blade slice across her throat and spill her life blood.
Instead she opened them to black blood spraying her hair, and the orc's head rolling across the forest floor.
***
It was Thorin. Thorin had found her, had saved her.
Arien fell to her knees in a pool of black blood as Thorin unleashed himself upon the remaining orcs.
She'd never seen anyone move so fast.
He was a whirlpool of darkness, a blur of steel.
She watched him cut through them, one Prince through a forest of enemies.
Watched, until the last orc slumped to the ground and Thorin turned to face her.
Her saviour. Her Prince.
Arien stood up, ignoring the black blood dripping from her knees.
One girl, alone in a sea of death.
She was trembling and shaking all over, the grief for her mother momentarily forgotten in her fear.
Her mother was dead.
She'd known for a long time, but...
Somehow, knowing the circumstances, what the orcs had done to her...
Arien wished the orc had killed her. If only so that she didn't have to live through her pain and guilt.
Thorin's sword dripped black blood onto the soft pine needles.
"Arien?"
The numbness snapped.
She didn't give one thought to what would happen afterwards, didn't care that she was making the same mistake again as she ran, stumbling past him, desperate to get away. But as she passed him he caught her, pulling her against his warmth. She thrashed, screaming at him to let her go, but he held her firm. She wasn't, wasn't going to cry in front of him, wasn't going to show him just how much the orc's words had shaken her.
"Let me go!" she screamed again. "Please!"
But he didn't, and no matter how hard she struggled, those strong arms did not release her.
"Arien," he murmured, his voice cracking.
That voice was her undoing. She turned, burying her head in his chest to hide the sobs that wracked her body. Thorin's arms tightened around her, one hand gently stroking her hair. She'd never before seen this side of him. His gentleness. And she hadn't realised just how much she needed to cry, hadn't realised just how much she needed the comfort of someone holding her. Thorin was an unfaltering light amongst her despair, his broad chest hiding her face. Slowly, Arien's tears ceased, her breathing evened out. But she didn't try to pull back from the steady comfort of Thorin's chest, and he didn't try to push her away. Suddenly it dawned on her, as if for the first time, that he had saved her life, and she had not had not even thanked him. She opened her mouth to do just that, but found she couldn't get the words out. So instead she asked the question she'd been burning to ask ever since the blood from that orc's throat had showered her hair.
"Why did you find me?"
Thorin rested his chin on her head, his beard tickling her hair. His reply was so quiet she had to strain to hear it above the sigh of the wind.
"I would find you, even if it meant going into the burning depths of hell itself. I will find you, no matter how long it takes, or how far I have to go. I will always find you, Arien."
She turned to look up at him, and saw such a gentleness in his eyes. She'd never really noticed the colour of those eyes, but now she saw they were blue, a deep, bottomless blue that burned with eternal flame. Thorin gave her a half-smile that made her want to melt in front of him. Since when did he get to make her feel like this? She buried her head in his chest again, breathing in his smell that was of pine and metal, and whispered
"I will always find you too, Thorin."