Chapter Text
I took a deep breath of the cold air around me. I wasn’t used to it being this cold in the autumn. I wrapped my arms around myself and stepped away from the door looking for any sign of life. The closest I could identify was a fish flopping around in the water below.
I walked in that direction, trying to remove the images that had come up in my mind. I hadn’t seen Battle of Five Armies enough for it to inspire what was floating through my mind. So rather than fake images, I was placing all the men and women I’d seen dancing carefree in the hall within Smaug’s flames. I was not imagining disembodied screams, but their specific cries as the heat crackled and skin split open. I took another breath of cold air and sat down at the edge of the docks. It was not happening, I told myself. Smaug was still in the mountain. The people were still alive.
But they wouldn’t be much longer, would they? We’d unleash a fury on them that hadn’t been seen in generations. And I wasn’t stopping anything. We were sauntering directly towards that reality and I had done absolutely nothing to prevent it.
Tears filled my eyes as I imagined the world I was sitting in going up in flames.
“Ann?”
I snapped around to see Bilbo pattering towards me. He stopped when I turned, eyes examining my face. He could no doubt see the trails that my tears had made across my face.
“You left and… and I….”
“You should go back to the party Bilbo,” I suggested softly.
“How can I when someone who also ought to be enjoying the party seems to have sequestered herself out here?”
With that Bilbo sat next to me on the docks, feet swinging well above the water line. I looked down. If I scooted forward, I could put my own feet in the water. Let them experience the freedom of floundering around. But the toilet scene of Desolation of Smaug came to mind and I decided against it.
“Why did you run out here?” Bilbo asked finally.
I paused, ringing my hands together. I didn’t know what to say. I’d had my fair share of lying in Mirkwood and, after all of that, I was done. I wanted no more connection with the sickness of the forest. But the truth didn’t seem appropriate either. Bilbo didn’t need the future destruction of the village on his conscience. So I went with the very indirect response of: “It got stuffy in there.”
Bilbo furrowed his brow, clearly not satisfied with my answer. But once it became clear it was the best answer I’d give him, he just nodded. “Do big folk always dance indoors?”
I turned to him. “What do you mean?”
“It’s just that, in the Shire if there’s a party and dancing, it will always be outside.”
“Do you dance in the pubs at all?”
“One or two might, nothing so organized as this.”
I shrugged, looking back at the town hall. “I guess it depends on the people. But for Lake Town, I’m guessing there’s not really much of a place to go dancing elsewhere. Unless they start walking on water.”
Bilbo laughed. “And I suppose none of you can do that.”
I smiled and shook my head. Well, I did know one guy, but there were certainly extenuating circumstances.
“There we are. There’s that smile. I missed it, you know. In the forest.”
I sighed and looked down at the water. “I’m so sorry Bilbo….”
“Ann, you have nothing to apologize for. It was the forest. Now I don’t claim to understand everything. But I know that… I know you were in a bad spot. And now I am just relieved that you are alright.”
We sat for a few minutes, listening to the wind stir the water below us. I closed my eyes, taking in a few deep breaths as I became calm again.
“Will you return to the party now?” Bilbo asked quietly.
I shook my head. “Not in a party mood anymore. But you should go back. You can make up for all the good meals you missed in Mirkwood.”
“Well….” Bilbo looked back between myself and the town hall.
“Go! Have fun. I’m just going to go on a walk.”
“Alright. You sure you won’t come back in?”
“I’m sure. But Bilbo,” I called to him once more as he began to walk back to the hall. “Thank you for coming out to find me.”
He nodded and smiled before returning to the party.
I stood up and stretched my legs, eyes wandering to the mountain. There it was, looming over us. The entire Kingdom of Erebor. And within that, a monster. I shook my head and turned back. I just wanted to go back to the house we were given. To forget for a few moments all the dangers that were coming up in the next week.
“Ann!”
I snapped my head around as Thorin called. His eyes met mine and he stalked over.
“You cannot walk this town on your own,” he insisted.
I just blinked. I hadn’t expected him to come after me.
He filled the silence between us. “When you did not return with Bilbo….”
“You saw me leave?” I whispered.
“Of course! I would have followed sooner had not Bilbo….”
I sighed and leaned against the wall of the closest house. “Why? I’m fine Thorin, I'm just going on a walk.”
He closed his eyes and put his hands behind his back. “We do not know who is out here. If there is a man lurking with ill intentions….”
“Thorin!” I remembered Bree, and his fears with me singing in the Prancing Pony. “Do you really think every single man is a creep? That they’ll all attack a random woman walking in town?” I clarified after he looked confused at the word “creep.”
“It only takes one.”
We stood in silence for a moment, his eyes dark and broody. I watched as he slowly turned to face away from me, hands firmly behind his back. Squeezed tight if the muscles of his arms were any indication, black hair shining in the moonlight. He looked troubled. Very troubled. It made me want to reach for him and….
Then I looked beyond at the mountain. Was that the answer? Was even the proximity to our destination already leaching onto his mind? Causing paranoia? I didn’t think it was possible, but Peter Jackson clearly disagreed with me. My mouth parted slightly as I watched Thorin stare vaguely into the distance of town.
“Are… are you alright?” I finally asked.
His blue eyes finally met mine and his brow knit ever so slightly in wonder. “Of course I am it is….” Suddenly he stopped short, head tilting slightly to the left in wonder. Then his lips parted in an “o” and he turned around to face the mountain. He turned back to me. Then again to the mountain. His mind seemed to work things through because he breathed: “So soon?”
I shrugged. “There isn’t a consensus.”
Thorin simply shut his eyes and nodded. “Come. Let us return to the party. It is not well to keep our hosts waiting.”
I shook my head. “I really don’t want to go back, Thorin.”
“Did one of them hurt you?” he asked quietly. As he took a step forward his arms moved again to the front of his body. I watched as slowly, deliberately, he crossed them over his chest. Once he reached that posture, he seemed to freeze again in fury.
“No, of course not!”
“Because you left quickly….”
“It wasn’t any of the men, Thorin.”
“Then what in Durin’s name was it?”
I clenched my lips together, letting out a deep sigh. Part of me wanted to put my head down. But when it came down to it, I just stood there. Gazing into his eyes, watching them try to read what I was communicating. Even weeks ago, I knew there would have been no hope. His eyes would have narrowed and the berating would have begun. But something about Mirkwood changed us. Me being completely vulnerable in the woods and being stuck in a cell with him… we knew each other. Now.
So instead of narrowing, his eyes softened and he took a step closer. “Not here then?” he whispered.
I nodded.
He mirrored my actions and said “Come.” With that he put his hand gently on the small of my back and we walked back towards the house Bard had given us for the next few days.
We walked in utter silence, me still listening to the waves rolling into the posts below. Posts that would splinter and crack when Smaug’s fire reached them. I shivered.
“Is there a chill?" asked Thorin almost instantaneously.
“Yes.” Obviously not the whole truth, but the air was quite brisk. Chilly enough that, even though I had my sweater back, I regretted not bringing my cloak.
Almost immediately Thorin’s hand moved from my back. I looked over in time to see him shrug off his coat and place it on my shoulders, giving them a light squeeze.
“Thank you,” I gasped, looking down to meet his eyes. He simply nodded, breaking our stare quickly as we reached the door. He opened it to usher me inside.
I hadn’t been inside too many buildings in Middle Earth and therefore wasn’t used to how dark it would be once the door closed behind us. My hand immediately went to the wall for a switch, forgetting that electricity hadn’t been discovered here. Would it be, would there be a hobbit version of Ben Franklin who would discover how to harness this power of the Earth? I didn’t know. But my hand ended up brushing Thorin’s arm as I grasped for something that was not there.
“I’m sorry,” I said instinctively, feeling his muscles tense under my fingers.
He grunted and placed his hand back on my back and walked me to the couch. Once he seemed to be satisfied that I was safe, he turned to the fireplace and began placing logs within.
“Is it typical for your race to be so affected by the elements?” he asked, almost casually, as he struck flint and sparked the first source of light in the room.
“I guess? I hear you dwarves are more sturdy with the weather… I know women tend to get colder than men. Is it the same with your people?”
Thorin shrugged. “In truth, I never paid much heed. Although I suppose Dís would always have the fire going. And she would request one if it had not been started.” He did not look at me as he continued to feed the fire, a move I found to be disappointing.
“I guess it doesn’t help,” I continued, hoping to keep conversation going as long as possible, “that I’m from a much warmer place as well.”
This time, Thorin did turn to me. Briefly. “You do not speak much of your home.”
“It’s hard to.”
He sighed and returned his attention to the fire. “Do you miss it?” he eventually asked.
Well, that was a good question. I remembered when I’d first arrived, I missed AC and running water. And my books, although not as much as Bilbo. A month in, I really missed my family. Even when I lived in England I made sure to call them at least on Sundays after Church when they would finally be awake. I hadn’t talked to them in three months now. Did I miss them? Yes. But honestly, my perspective was shifting. This place was becoming my home. Here, in Middle Earth with my dwarves. With Bilbo Baggins. And even with Thorin Oakenshield.
“A bit,” I finally answered. “Although I meant it’s hard to talk about it logistically just as much as anything else. I don’t know what to say that wouldn’t prove I’m from a different world.”
Thorin placed more kindling in the fireplace and turned back to me. “How so?”
“It’s just so advanced. I mean think about it Thorin, I might be from five thousand years from now. I’m sure you’ve seen things grow and change in your own lifetime… imagine another five thousand years!”
Thorin shook his head. “In truth, we have been a people in exile for the last century. That does not exactly lead to innovation of which you allude.”
“Oh.” We sat in silence for several minutes as I digested this uncomfortable fact. Then I thought about a way to illustrate it to him. “You know how you are building a fire right now?”
He turned to me with a mild smirk. “I might have been aware of that fact.”
I snorted, and his smirk broke into a soft smile. “Well, where I’m from, if I wanted to make the house warm, I would only need to turn a small lever… about the size of my pinky… and the house would get warm.”
Thorin threw one log into the fire before stopping to stare at me. “How could this be?”
I shrugged. “I’m not entirely sure how it works, but it does. And no,” I answered as his mouth opened again, “it’s not magic.”
He raised an eyebrow. “How did you know that was what I intended to ask?”
“Because,” I flashed him a smile, “you asked me that question when you were in my house.”
“Oh.” With that, the conversation was over and he turned back to the dancing fire. I kicked myself for bringing up a memory he had not actually experienced with me, effectively bringing silence back between us. I wondered if Thorin felt similarly as he continued to prod the fire with a stick to make it grow. As the flames sprang up from their fuel, my mind immediately went back to the town hall, standing on the makeshift stage, watching the world burn.
“Smaug will destroy Lake Town.”
I heard Thorin’s stick freeze. “I believe you have mentioned this before?” His voice sounded thick.
“Maybe. It’s just… when we were in the hall… when I was singing….”
He placed the stick in the fire and took a place on the far end of the couch. But I was in the middle… why couldn’t he have gone in the middle with me…?
I shook my head. “I was singing a song about Lake Town burning. It was written for the movie… and I didn’t realize it. I don’t know how I could have been so stupid….”
“Ann,” Thorin said, leaning towards the fire and gripping his hands tightly. “While there are many words I might use to describe you, ‘stupid’ is not one of them.”
I shook my head and let out a snort, leaning on my own knees and putting my head in my hands. “It was like I was watching them burn. This whole village… just for helping us….”
“What would you have me do?” he whispered.
I turned to look at him. What could he do? It wasn’t as though he could abandon the quest, wait another 100 years for Smaug to rot within. If a century would even be enough to outlast the dragon’s lifespan.
Thorin was not ready to let it be. “Do you recall where the Arkenstone is? If you tell Bilbo, he could find it without waking the dragon….”
I shook my head. “I don’t know where it is.”
“We could… sneak in and kill the beast….”
“You heard what Gandalf said: None who Smaug sees lives to tell the tale. Maybe an elf could get a good shot….” My mind went to many of the fics where Legolas or someone snuck in to kill the dragon.
Thorin, of course, seemed completely unimpressed with this line of thought. “Thranduil would demand the whole mountain as payment if one of his people slew the beast.”
I snorted. “No, you’re right. I don’t think there’s anything we can do… I wish I’d thought of this….” I leaned my head back on my hands.
“Ann.” I looked up to see that Thorin had turned towards me, hands gripping his knees. “You cannot bear all of the consequences of this quest. You were tasked with saving my nephews, were you not?”
And you, Thorin. Although I decided not to say that part out loud and simply nodded.
“Then that is the task you must focus on. Not all other outcomes or consequences…” he trailed off staring at the fire himself. As though he felt this conversation only went to further seal his own fate. I hadn’t given up on him in the slightest, but I wasn’t ready to tell him that. We continued to watch each other, his lips parting from time to time.
“Tell me of….” This time he trailed off and placed his hands on his head, rubbing his temple. It was as though something had cracked within. I remembered the last time we were sitting in front of a fire, outside Mirkwood, when he had talked about fear. About how he could not afford to give in to fear because how would the company continue. Which shocked me because Thorin never seemed to fear death, at least not for himself. He rushed into it head on.
Then I remembered that it was not his impending death that had shocked him on the docks earlier. Rather, it had been the threat of madness.
I scooted closer. “You want to know about… your mind.”
He nodded, finally raising his head and resting his chin on his fists. “How much longer can I presume to be in my right mind?”
I shrugged. “In the books, you’re fine until after Smaug dies and we’re in the mountain. In the movies, it’s less clear. Kíli is wounded and you don’t seem to care… but it’s hard to know if that’s the stress of being chased by orcs or goldsickness seeping in.”
Thorin nodded. Just nodded.
“How… how do you feel now?”
His mouth parted slightly and he squeezed his hands tightly. “I believe… I believe I feel like myself… although I do not think I would be the best judge.”
I scooted closer. “You seem like you to me. Although, there’s people in the company who’ve known you longer than I have.”
“Aye, longer.” His eyes met mine, searching. His hands seemed to find a steady grip on themselves, until eventually he crossed his arms and leaned back on the sofa. Eyes closed.
I wanted to reach out and touch him. To squeeze his shoulder, to give him some sort of physical comfort. But there was something in his posture that warned me against it.
“I know what must be done.”
His words snapped me out of whatever trance or something I was in. “What do you mean?”
“It will not be tonight. Tomorrow.” He stood up again, turning slowly back to me on the couch. “Will you return to the party?”
I shook my head. “Not in a party mood anymore. Not that you seem to be either.”
“No but duty calls,” he replied stiffly. “If you are to remain, remain inside the house. So not open the door for any but the company. Is that understood, Ann?”
“I understand Thorin.”
He nodded slightly and made his way towards the door. When he closed it I lay back on the couch, more disappointed than I’d been in a long time. I didn’t want him to leave, I’d wanted him to stay. I wanted to have this one on one time with him. To sit close to him, as I had in Mirkwood. I understood that had been out of necessity, but I found myself missing it…. I stood up quickly and approached the fire.
“Shit,” I whispered.
I recognized these feelings in myself, and kicked myself for taking so long to see them for what they were. Last time I’d felt them, it had been for a co-worker in England. His geeky smile got to me every time… but he didn’t see things the same way. And I felt silly for thinking he might. But still… I recognized these feelings I was having right now and immediately went to push them down. They wouldn’t be helpful in getting Thorin, Fíli, and Kíli through this. They’d only be a distraction. If I indulged, or thought they might in any way be real or reciprocated, I’d only succeed in getting myself hurt.