Sorry it took so long to update! I had a pretty big test for school this week and got a bit distracted!! Thank you all for your support! It means the world to me! Now, please, Enjoy!!
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“If I may…” Bilbo interrupted. Beuren looked down at him, a soft smile returning to her face. “I suppose you are hungry? I may be able to scavenge up something from the pantry, though it was… mostly emptied.”
“Did they leave the greens?”
“Yes.” He replied, leading her to the pantry. “I came to believe that Dwarves don’t like them, greens I mean.”
“They don’t.” She said.
“Then why do you?” A small laugh escaped her lips. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and turned her head, he nearly dropped the bowl, an elf. There was an elf in his home! “Excuse me my lady.” He said giving her a bow.
“Oh no. No, no. No ‘my lady’ makes me sound too old.” She giggled. He smiled and rooted for anything else to go with her meal.
Meanwhile, Thorin, Balin, Dwalin, and the princes were arguing. Thorin was utterly confused about her behavior, they’d been perfectly content with one another only weeks ago, and now this? Balin tried to explain that she probably had changed from being away from people for so long, and that he needed to just warm up to her again. Kili agreed, of course, but Fili wasn’t so sure. That led to a fight between the two, which Dwalin had to break up. It was a mess, this, the whole lot of it.
Beuren munched gratefully on her food. Bread and cheese was all the hobbit could conjure up, but it was fine with her, went well with the red wine. She could hear the arguing from the hall. They were whispering, but her keen hearing could pick it up, every word. She felt bad about what she’d said, but she did have a point. He’d abandoned her when she’d needed him. He let her leave, in fact he made her leave, sent her into exile. And if that wasn’t enough to anger someone, then Beuren didn’t know what would.
“Go talk to her, but be kind, we don’t want her any madder than she already is.” Balin said. Heavy boots sounded on the wooden floor.
“Bilbo would you give Thorin and I a moment.” He nodded, exiting before the King even rounded the corner. When he did he was careful, walking slower, as if approaching a wounded animal.
“Beuren, I want you to listen for a moment, please, don’t speak, just listen.” She glared at him, taking a bite of food, he continued. “I want to tell you that I am sorry. What I did was wrong. I was acting on emotions, not rationally.”
“So that’s your excuse, emotions?” Beuren set her food aside, downing the rest of her wine.
“It’s not an excuse.”
“Then why didn’t you come looking for me, back when I would have easily forgiven you.”
“I didn’t know where to look.”
“Really? I have family in one other place, Thorin, how about starting there!” She growled. “Or did you not bother to look because you are a king, and a king can’t go back on his word?” Thorin cringed inwardly.
“I missed you, every second. Beuren, let me…”
“No. Just no. It’s my turn.” She stepped forward. “Did you mourn? I bet you didn’t. Probably had another election to run for.” Her jab at Frerin caused Thorin to clench his fists.
“I did, for months.”
“And I for years!” She barked. “You know, only recently have I really started to blame you. It’s been about twenty years or so when I started to finally realize who caused all of this. It was the day I watched my brother die; the arrow went right through his skull, his eye still skewered to the tip. I think that’s the day I really started to figure out that none of this would have happened if you would have just stopped me from leaving.” Thorin took a deep breath. “I lost my father too, trolls, my mother is dead. My nephew grew up without a father, your actions haven’t just affected me, they’ve affected everyone.” She turned to leave.
“Get back here.” Thorin thundered.
“Or what? You’ll send me into exile again?!” Everyone was silent.
“What about Bree?” She smirked, coming up with a quick lie.
“I was drunk.” She pushed past the other’s making her way to the back of the home, Bilbo following close behind, showing her to her room. There was a loud slam and more silence.
This hadn’t gone at all how Dwalin thought it would. He went to Balin and told him that the pair of them were going to convince Dis to write to Beuren and get her to come along on the journey. Dis refused, she knew that this might happen. But she relented once Fili and Kili joined in. The four of them expected something along the lines of ‘I am so glad to see you’ or even as far as ‘I forgive you’, not ‘I want to throttle you in your sleep’. It took a turn for the worst, as it usually did for them, and took the rest of them barreling down hill desperately trying to stop the landslide that they had caused, also as usual.
“Well, that went well.” Bofur said sarcastically. There was still no sign of Thorin.
The king was leaning against the counter, his head in his hands. He’d messed up, like, really messed up. The only thought on his mind was that he was done for. There was no getting her back now. He’d forever need someone that didn’t need him in return. Loving a ghost. Thorin had never thought that it would happen this way, he’d thought about her leaving, being his rational self and all, but he hadn’t ever expected her to be so… well, cruel. As if he hadn’t felt bad enough before, she added to the pile of guilt that weighed so heavily on him.
The morning was cool, despite the rising of the sun. Gandalf stood on the porch, smoking his pipe and examining the landscape around him. Rolling hills, dirt paths, trees thick with leaves, a beautiful country the Shire was. He was shaken from his thoughts upon hearing the sound of hoof beats on the dewy ground. He looked; Beuren was awake, packed, and ready to move, already rounding up the ponies. The others however were still sleeping.
“Do not tell me they are still asleep.” She said. He smiled and stepped aside.
“Be my guest, you can do it better than I. They’ll actually wake to a woman’s voice.”
“They’ll be running from this one’s. Shall I wake the Hobbit?”
“No, he has not yet found his spirit of adventure, though he will, I am sure of it.” Gandalf leaned on his staff, blowing a butterfly of smoke into the crisp air. As it started to sink towards the ground, Beuren gently pushed it up with her fingertips. Gandalf smiled, no matter how hard on the outside, she always had a soft spot for beauty and creativity, she had to, it was in her nature as an elf, even though she was only three quarters.
“Alright, I best get them up.” She said, smiling gently. Beuren pushed through the round green door. Making her way around the home, she woke one dwarf at a time, as kindly as possible, if it was an option. Several, such as Gloin and Bomber, were not so easily aroused, after a good hard kick to the shin however, they were up.
Fili woke quickly, stretching and getting to his feet. He, like Dosdrat, had that annoying way of waking up in a split second and staying awake for the rest of the day. Kili, however, was much like Dis and was incapable of waking up immediately.
Beuren was sitting down beside him, shaking him lightly. He groaned and rolled to his other side. A small smile crept to her lips. Again she shook his shoulder, a little rougher this time. Kili wasn’t going to wake that easily. So, Beuren leaned closer.
“C’mon, you need to get up.” She said, her tone as gentle as a summer breeze. Kili rolled to his side so he was facing her and opened his eyes slowly. “That’s it, now, can I trust you to wake up or shall I get some water.”
“Nope, not necessary.” Kili said, yawning and stumbling to his feet. Beuren stood and looked around, everyone was up, except one. Thorin still slept in the chair in the corner of the room. One foot rested on a small footstool, the other was on the ground. Both arms lay on the arm rests, fists clenched. Reluctantly, Beuren crept closer to him. She crouched down beside him, knees popping. Cringing she watched as he slept on. Forcing herself to be kind, she spoke.
“Thorin, we need to leave.” He turned his head away from her. Frustrated, she sighed. “Two can play this game.” She muttered. “Ta coiasira a' kuile.” She whispered breathily. She stood as his eyes opened, turning and pacing back to the door of the hobbit hole.
Thorin hated when she did that, spoke in elvish. He couldn’t understand what she was saying, and her voice was always so mesmerizing. The smokiness in her tone and the softness of the words together was enough to drive him mad. It was her last resort usually, when she wanted or needed something that was how she got it, from him at least. Or it used to be.
Before he could really wrap his head around what he was doing, Thorin found himself standing and following after Beuren. Why he hadn’t any idea, but he was intent on finding her. When he did, she was in deep conversation with Balin about something he had no care in the world to know about. He strode up to her, pulling her aside by her arm.
“What are you-“
“Beuren,” And now, the reality had set in, and he had no idea what to say. So, he improvised. “I wanted to say I’m sorry, about last night.”
“I bet you are.” She said, wrenching her arm from his grip and joining the others. Sighing he leaned against the doorframe and shook his head.
“She’ll come around.” Dwalin said, clapping a heavy hand on Thorin’s shoulder. “She always does.”
“I don’t think she will, Dwalin.” Thorin looked over at his friend. Dwalin nodded slowly then let out a sigh as well.
“We should get going if we don’t want to be seen.” Dwalin replied, stepping around Thorin and making his way to the front room.
Once the dwarves had all cleaned up, they met Beuren and Gandalf on the porch. Beuren was tying down luggage onto ponies, though everyone quickly took notice to her lack of a giant grey horse. No one said anything, only wondered if she’d be walking the entire way.
Bilbo woke with the sun shining directly in his eyes. Squinting, he waited for his eyes to adjust to the light. Once he did, he opened them, suddenly noticing just how quiet it was in the house. He stood, pacing to the front of the house.
“H-Hello?” He called, looking for any sign of Dwarves. The Hobbit was stunned to see that everything had been put in order. The tables and chairs were in their specific spots. Crockery and silverware replaced in their cupboards and drawers. Glasses and tankards were all scrubbed clean, tucked away neatly into their designated shelves.
Bilbo began wandering aimlessly around the house. He couldn’t help but feel a bit lonely, why, he hadn’t a single idea. He looked on the writing desk in the study; it was strewn with papers and books, open ink bottles and feather quills. At the top of the piles of paper, there was a long parchment that fell to the floor. He looked at it a moment, the contract. Bilbo stared at the contract, debating, weighing the risks. Oh yes, there were many dangers, but there were also many goods that came from this journey. The Hobbit looked away. Was it really worth it?
Oh yes.