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Published:
2023-11-14
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2024-01-23
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39/39
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The Colour of Blackberries

Chapter 14: Busywork

Chapter Text

Briar came to realise that the dwarves were trying to distract her, so that she would not become melancholic about their ever-increasing distance from Bag End.

When the sun was beginning to set and they decided to make camp, she spoke about methods of cooking and herbs growing in the wilderness which could be used to for seasoning with Bombur, who wasn’t inclined to agree with her until she gathered enough to demonstrate their effects.

Óin was interested in the herbs as well, acting as their company’s medic. They discussed the medicinal uses for feverfew leaves and roots which could be softened over heat then used for poultices. While they remained within the Shire, Briar was able to explain which roots could be pulled from the dirt and washed before being used to cure various ailments.

She collected wood which could be used as kindling for their campfire. Bofur would then choose the thicker branches and use a small knife to strip away leaves before whittling down to the basic shapes of a statuette, though he was better known in the Blue Mountains for crafting children’s toys. As she watched his practised movements, he took the time to show her how the knife could be angled to add details, and spoke generally about the toys preferred by infants who could not yet walk—though other dwarves would clear their throats loudly to interrupt before he could ask about Marís.

Just like the fauntlings who had enjoyed listening to her stories, Fíli and Kíli showed great interest in learning about the everyday circumstances of hobbit life, although gardening and maintaining a household surely could not be as exciting as the pursuits of dwarven princes. Ori asked for permission to include the information in his written record of their journey and was perpetually frowning down at the pages, unaware that his fingers became stained with ink.

“Hobbits will come up with all kinds of excuses to throw a party,” she told them at dinner. “In addition to official holidays throughout the year, there might be a celebration of the first flowers of spring, or a fauntling successfully learning their letters, or perhaps even because a pantry is overstocked. It’s customary to invite every hobbit of your acquaintance. Though you might delay sending cards to anyone you dislike, so they receive them only after the party has already ended.”

Balin chuckled at that, sitting nearby with a bowlful of stew.

“A terrible shame to have missed a hobbit wedding,” Gandalf mused, sounding genuinely regretful. “I have been remiss in not offering my belated congratulations, dear Briar.”

“No,” she said quietly and glanced across the campfire to where Thorin was sitting, posture rigid. “Not at all, Gandalf. I never received an offer.”

Thorin closed his eyes for a moment, as though he was in physical pain. He set down his bowl without finishing it, stood and walked to the agreed-upon watch position, a rock which overlooked the camp and its surrounds where the firelight did not reach.

Briar fiddled with the makeshift necklace underneath her collar, where the bead was safely strung.

The dwarves seemed to have made their own assumptions about why she was an unwed mother, with Fíli and Kíli particularly outraged that an unknown hobbit might have slighted her. There were murmured theories about an extramarital affair, or a premature death before the marriage. Dori was so swayed by speculation that he seemed suddenly protective of her, and she was certain that Nori was encouraging wilder theories than would ever be plausible. Many of the dwarves accepted that there had been unusual circumstances and ate their dinners in peace.

Balin indicated for Dwalin to head up to the watch position, his own expression mildly curious.

“There was no wedding, and my daughter’s birth was not openly celebrated, either-” Briar continued speaking without acknowledging how deeply that clearly upset dwarvish sensibilities, “-but there were trusted friends in attendance who knew her to be a blessing from the Valar. Let nothing unkind be said about her father, who couldn’t have known about the pregnancy before we parted.”

Kíli nodded slowly, somewhat appeased by that. “Would you have married him, if he asked?”

“I wouldn’t have wanted him to propose out of a sense of obligation towards my daughter,” she replied. “I’m fortunate enough to have the means to raise her independently. But I…” Briar trailed off, briefly touching where the pendant had been a familiar weight before lowering her hand. “Yes, I would have married him for love. But now I see that nothing could have come of it,” she murmured.

So, Briar was kept busy until the company settled in their bedrolls, warmed by the fire.

She stirred from sleep, thinking that she had dreamed the arrival of dwarves at her doorstep. There was the familiar scent of smoke from the fireplace and a blanket settled across her. For several moments, Briar blinked up uncomprehendingly at the night sky while reaching for her daughter, who should have been resting on her chest—but she was not there.

Briar gasped with sudden fear, sitting up and reaching out desperately-

A hand pressed against her shoulder, encouraging her to lie back down.

She saw that Thorin was kneeling beside her, barely visible in the dim light of the dying fire, and immediately trusted that he would help her find Marís, clutching tightly onto the sleeve of his tunic. “She is safe at home,” he murmured, and Briar’s senses gradually returned to her. She released her grip, ashamed to have become so vulnerable while half-awake, still at the beginning of their journey.

“Assisting with menial tasks will not be enough for you to sleep soundly,” Thorin told her, his voice quiet enough not to wake the others. “I will speak to Dwalin about weapons training, if you are amenable.”

Briar stared up at him, as though he was a phantom.

“You need not fight,” he assured her after a moment. “It’s simply important that you know how to protect yourself, and you will be too exhausted to dream after training each evening.”

Moments ago, she had believed that she was sleeping in her armchair holding her daughter. Now, it was difficult to convince herself that Thorin had ever left, and that he was not speaking to her underneath the stars as they had laid beside each other on the hillside overlooking the Brandywine River. To her frustration, tears began to well up and she turned her head to wipe at them ineffectually.

Thorin briefly hesitated, before moving across the campsite without another word.

The next morning Briar would have been willing to call it a dream, only so that her heart might not ache. But Dwalin approached her about training with a dagger or other weapon befitting a burglar, demonstrating the motions that she would need to replicate before moving onto the next lesson. Fíli and Kíli loudly protested that Briar wouldn’t have the energy to speak with them anymore, and Thorin—who watched her clumsy movements with apparent disinterest—simply turned away.