Chapter 1: Prologue
Notes:
Dear Reader,
Welcome to my first fanfiction! Please note that English is not my first language, so I appreciate your understanding if you come across any mistakes. I’m excited to share this story with you, and I would love to hear your thoughts and any constructive feedback you may have. Thank you for joining me on this journey!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Everyone was whispering that day. Even the wind—usually harsh and unforgiving—was quiet as a sigh. She sat alone in the middle of her room, clutching her worn-out ragdoll, waiting. Minutes turned into hours until her nursemaid finally slipped into the room. The old woman’s wrinkled face was pale, her eyes red-rimmed, and it scared her. “They are gone, dear sweet child,” she said softly, patting her pale hair. “Your parents. The Night took them, in peace. They’ve gone to a better place.”
But she had heard the murmurs, the servants’ hushed voices behind the door. "Attack... ripped apart... they never found who... they should never have gone... oh, so much blood!" The whispers clung to her days, seeping into her dreams. The Night might have taken her parents, but her young mind understood it wasn’t peaceful. It was red, like fire, like dawn, like the dress she refused to ever wear again. And so, her days of nightmares turned into months, then years. But as she grew, her body ripening, her mind maturing, she learned to hide—from the pitying gazes of servants and visitors, and from the shadows that lingered just outside her periphery, a silver-haired woman and a man with a golden crown, both weeping blood instead of watery tears.
"We have to go," Eline urged her mistress gently towards the awaiting carriage. Lady Talessa Quinmaer’s face was turned towards her home, her hesitant, sorrowful gaze clung to it’s gloomy, grey walls. The bare stone was neither inviting nor strong; it was a bleak, shabby mansion that its inhabitants tried to brighten with flowers, carpets and colourful decorations. Eline never understood why her friend was so attached to such a musty, desolate place.
The girl found herself working at Quinmaer Castle at the age of twelve after her parents secured her a position as a kitchen maid. The manor struggled to find servants, as the tragic demise of the Lord and Lady had sparked rumours among the nearby villagers. They whispered of a haunted place, a danger to a good man’s mind and sanity. It didn’t help that the new lady of the manor was said to be of unsound mind—a ghost in a living body, they claimed—one who would haunt your dreams and draw you into madness.
Eline’s parents, however, were more educated than the village folk. Her mother worked as a tutor, and her father, a trader who had visited many lands before settling, dismissed such superstitions. So, of course, they didn’t believe the rumours and considered the position an excellent opportunity for their young, unruly daughter. Eline, on the other hand, a bit naive and impressionable, believed everything the villagers whispered. To her, the new employment was a nightmare. But she had to accept it to help her family, as her mother was preoccupied with caring for her two little brothers—one five at the time, the other merely two.
After the first few months, however, she realised it was not as terrible as she had feared. Some of the older servants were a bit quiet and evasive, and there was certainly a lingering sadness, something melancholic between the stony walls. But the job was easy, she was paid well, and she never even encountered the infamous Lady of the manor.
Until the day she did. She was tasked with polishing the silverware—a rather honourable task for someone of her simple position—in the dining chamber when the Lady walked in. The woman wore an ivory gown, a simple, long-sleeved, high-neck design, but the delicate lacework all over made it look elegant, almost regal. The most peculiar thing, however, was the long white veil, gently stirred by the wind from the open window, obscuring her face, her features barely visible. She turned to Eline and seemed to want to say something, but the servant girl dropped the fork in her hand and fled the room, startled, as the woman who she just saw was surely not human.
Eline had a fiery temper, and so she very loudly declared to all the staff that listened that she would not work in a haunted house. But then the maidservant Bertra grabbed her by the arm, dragged her out of the kitchen, and gave her a stern lecture about making fun of a child, barely older than Eline herself, who had lost her family and was just trying to deal with her grief. Bertra left Eline with a disappointed look, and the girl suddenly felt very guilty and rather foolish for indulging in the villagers’ gossip and believing in ghost stories. For the next two years, whenever she saw her mistress, she curtsied deeply, as if to apologise for her earlier behaviour. The lady—the girl—always replied with a nod, and sometimes Eline could even make out a small smile behind the veil.
When Eline turned fourteen, Bertra offered her a new position as Lady Talessa’s maid. Eline was nervous to accept, not because of superstitions this time, but due to the simple commoner’s wariness of those with titles, manners, and wealth. She ended up accepting though, and it proved to be one of her best decisions. Not only did she gain a valued and noble position, but she also found a best friend.
On the first afternoon that Lady Talessa met Eline as her new maid, her face was uncovered. She sat straight-backed on an ornate sky-blue sofa, dressed in one of her usual white gowns, her impossibly long silver hair gently framing her delicate, radiant face. Eline had never seen a girl more beautiful; for a moment, she thought she might be gazing upon an elven princess—or her carved marble counterpart. Her slightly pointed ears, peeking through her silver hair, only added to the ethereal impression. Later, Eline learned that the lady was indeed half-elf, a descendant of the fabled Lúthien on her mother's side.
Talessa, or Tessie as Eline soon came to call her, was kind and graceful, polished but not haughty. She treated Eline as a friend, not a servant, and so that is what they became. Sometimes Talessa’s sorrow would resurface, making her distant and fragile, but Eline always found a way to distract her, to bring her back to the present. Whether it was with a silly story, a walk through the garden, or simply sitting with her in silence, Eline learned how to gently coax Tessie out of the dark corners of her mind. In return, Talessa offered Eline something she had never expected to find in a noblewoman: true friendship. It was a bond that transcended the boundaries of class, one that made them both stronger, and Eline knew it was a bond that would carry them through any challenges that lay ahead.
✧
Although Talessa had been certain of her decision yesterday, now doubt filled her heart. Just a few weeks ago, a letter had arrived from a distant elven relative, Lord Elrond, inviting her to visit him in Rivendell. When she mentioned it during dinner that evening and suggested accepting the invitation, both her friend Eline and her beloved maid Bertra had been ecstatic, encouraging her to go. Their enthusiasm emboldened her, and Talessa set aside her qualms, deciding to organize the trip.
Now, as she gazed back at her house, a sudden dread crawled up her spine, spreading through her body like ice. She had never set foot beyond her estate, never even visited the nearby villages. She was on the verge of calling off the journey and retreating to the familiarity of her chambers when she saw them—two pale figures in one of the high windows: the lady with the silver hair and the lord with the golden crown. Over the years, their faces had grown obscured, their shapes more transparent, but they were always there, watching. And Talessa realized that if she didn’t leave now, she would be trapped here forever.
As the vision faded, she began to back away, shaking her head to dispel the unwanted sight, her veil shifting and momentarily obscuring her view of the house. Instinctively, she reached out for Eline, and the girl, noticing her distress, quickly grasped Talessa's trembling hands, her face filled with gentle concern. For a moment, everything seemed to freeze—except for Eline’s shiny copper curls, which danced in the breeze. That was enough to snap Talessa out of her daze. With a surprising surge of determination, she strode to the carriage and, taking the valet’s offered hand, promptly climbed inside.
Bertra raised an eyebrow but smiled knowingly. Eline helped the elderly woman up before climbing in herself and taking a seat beside Talessa. The butler hesitated at the door, unsure whether to close it or wait for his mistress to change her mind. Talessa closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and then gave the order: “Depart!”
✧
At the same time, thirteen dwarves, a wizard and a hobbit set off on a glorious adventure to the Lonely Mountain, Erebor, to reclaim the ancient homeland of Durin's folk.
Notes:
For an interactive map of Middle-earth, visit this page: http://lotrproject.com/map/#zoom=3&lat=-1315.5&lon=1500&layers=BTTTTT
Chapter Text
The valley was bathed in the golden light of the setting sun, casting long shadows that danced among the trees. As the carriage descended the winding path, Talessa caught her first glimpse of Rivendell, nestled like a hidden gem in the heart of the mountains. The grandiose buildings emerged from the mist, their white stone walls glowing softly in the fading light. Tall, slender towers reached skyward, their spires tipped with silver and gleaming in the light.
Delicate bridges arched over rivers that sparkled with crystal-clear water, weaving through lush, green meadows and groves of ancient trees. The sound of distant waterfalls filled the air, a gentle melody that harmonised with the rustle of leaves and the song of birds. Everywhere she looked, Talessa saw beauty—an ethereal beauty that seemed almost otherworldly, as if it was a place untouched by the passing of time.
She had only seen the Hidden Valley in her storybooks, and it was everything she had imagined and more. Even the air seemed different—purer, imbued with a subtle fragrance of blooming flowers and fresh pine. It was as if the valley existed in a perpetual state of spring, untouched by the harshness of the world beyond the mountains.
As they approached the heart of the settlement, two golden-armored elven guards trotted up beside them on long-maned white horses, leading the way. She looked at her two companions, both of them awestruck and wide-eyed.
"They are so handsome," whispered Eline, peaking out the window to sneak a glance at the two elves escorting them. When one of them looked at her, the girl blushed like a mushroom and quickly hid behind the curtain. Talessa giggled, and Bertra shook her head exasperatedly, hiding a smile.
"Come on, help me with the veil," asked Talessa, and Eline reached out to aid her in adjusting the ivory lace over her face. She had taken it off for the majority of the journey, at least while they were in the carriage, and for a brief second, she considered leaving it behind, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. It was her shield, after all—when her parents vanished from her life, she had hidden her sorrow behind it, and even now, she feared that when she removed it, everything would fall apart. Some elves also wore different styles of veils and headscarves, so she hoped hers wouldn't be too much of an oddity.
"Here," Eline said, placing a delicate silver tiara with little star carvings on top of her head. "Do you think they will invite us to one of their fabulous celebrations the travellers talk about?"
If what Talessa had read in her books about elven hospitality was true, then yes, they would attend fancy dinners and celebrations. But she decided she wouldn’t be disappointed even if the elves weren’t as welcoming as the stories claimed. Over the past few weeks on the road, despite the discomfort of the summer heat, the carriage’s constant jostling, and the cramped rooms in the inns they stayed at, she had learned more about the world than she had in her twenty years at home. They had passed through many different lands, from bustling towns to desolate plains. She had hired four guards to accompany them, but luckily, they didn't encounter any trouble. Her old butler had devised the safest route for them, and that is what they followed, even if it took them two weeks longer than simply using the roads by the Misty Mountains.
Finally, the carriage came to a halt in front of a grand marble staircase. As Talessa stepped out, she immediately spotted leader and she recognised him as Lord Elrond. He stood before a small envoy of gathered elves, wearing a light tunic perfectly tailored to his slender form, with a braided silver crown adorning his raven-black hair.
"What a pleasure to finally meet you, cousin," he said with a bow, extending his hands. Talessa curtsied and slipped her hands into his, gently squeezing them.
"It is indeed a pleasure, Lord Elrond. Thank you for your warm welcome." Though they looked nothing alike, Talessa already felt a strange sense of familiarity. Her mother was an elf, after all—this was her kin too.
The elven lord then introduced his sons, Elrohir and Elladan. The two young elves resembled their father and seemed to have inherited his manners and demeanour. They shared a few words about their distant relation and expressed their deepest sympathies for Talessa's loss.
"I have sent you letters before," Elrond mentioned, "but they never seemed to reach you."
Talessa was surprised but pleasantly so, feeling touched that her relative had tried to reach out. "No, I never received any of them. It's too easy for correspondence to get lost between our countries. But I am so glad we finally found each other."
✧
Eline watched as her mistress charmed their hosts with gentle ease. Tessie was short even compared to her, but she looked like a child next to the three men she was conversing with—although a very elegant and regal one. Eline was pleased to see that she seemed relaxed and happy, though Eline herself was, admittedly, a little apprehensive. Their hosts all appeared so perfect and polished, and even though she was wearing a dress fit for a noble, she felt a bit anxious. Tessie always dressed her in much fancier gowns than necessary, taught her proper dining manners, history, and all kinds of things noble ladies study. But now, Eline remembered where she came from—her parents' humble occupations, their modest little house, her little brothers running around, muddy and loud—and suddenly, she felt very intimidated and out of place. She looked at Bertra, but the old woman appeared calm and serene as she waited for their mistress.
When Talessa finished the greetings, Elrond left them in the care of his right-hand, Lindir, with a promise to catch up more during dinner.
"I hope you find everything to your liking, ladies," said the elf nervously, after showing them to their rooms. Eline found the man to be a little too on edge. They were certainly not the type to complain, especially not after being given their own quarters with separate bedrooms. The whole place seemed like it belonged to a fairytale rather than real life. The walls were cream marble and ivory wood, with great oval windows and delicately carved columns everywhere. Everything was bright, full of lively greens, and adorned with exquisitely designed furniture.
Bertra didn’t hesitate much before retiring to her bedroom to rest after the tiring journey. Talessa watched her with a bit of worry.
"Do you think the travel was too much for her?" she asked, eyebrows furrowed. Eline glanced at the door the old woman had just retreated behind and shrugged.
"It probably was, but I think in this place, she’ll wake up feeling years younger tomorrow. Now, let's get ready for dinner!"
Notes:
Don't worry, Thorin and his company are joining us soon ;)
Chapter Text
"What's going on?" asked Talessa nervously, turning to Nídhiel. She was a young elf living in Imladris—Eline and Talessa had met her on their first night and they had become quick friends. She was witty and lively, taking it upon herself to show the two women around, escorting them everywhere and gossiping about all of the Hidden Valley’s happenings.
Today, the three of them were walking together in one of the lush gardens, Nídhiel telling them stories about the fabled Valar, when a trumpet blast shattered the silence. They all looked in the direction of the sound and saw a group of elven riders, led by Elrond and his sons, hurrying out of the courtyard.
"It might be the orcs again," said Nídhiel, glancing toward the gates. "There are more and more sightings. Not a good sign if you ask me, but Elrond says it's nothing to worry about."
"I’ve never seen an orc," shuddered Eline. "I heard they are hideous."
"Oh, they are" replied Nídhiel, her nose scrunched. "Trust me, you never want to see one."
Talessa wholeheartedly agreed. She had only seen illustrations of them in her books, and she hoped to never face any.
"Could they ever get in here?" she asked, tugging at the edge of her veil.
"Oh, no," laughed Nídhiel. "This is one of the most well-hidden and well-protected places in Middle-earth. We will always be safe and sound in Imladris."
Both Talessa and Eline breathed a sigh of relief. The place did seem impenetrable. Nothing bad could happen here.
Nídhiel linked arms with the two women and began leading them back toward the buildings.
"Let's go, I have some dresses you two need to try on before dinner," she said with a bright smile, guiding them to her room.
✧
"Absolutely not," exclaimed Talessa, looking at the dress. It was pale blue, just like her eyes, the bodice embroidered with silver flowers that clung tightly to her upper body. The skirt flared out from the waist down, ending in a short train at the back. That wouldn’t have been a problem, but the gown left her entire shoulders bare, with loose sleeves attached only at the upper arms, and the décolletage was cut so low that with one wrong move, everything it covered could become visible. Talessa didn’t want to try it on, but eventually, persuaded by the other two women, she relented.
"Darling, it looks amazing on you! And it comes with a veil that you can style to cover your face," said Nídhiel excitedly, lifting a translucent fabric in a matching color, also embroidered on the trims.
"It is way too revealing; I can't wear it," protested Talessa.
"Oh Tessie, come on, it’s time you stop dressing like a grandmother," Eline said with raised eyebrows, daring her to disagree. "You’re young—you can absolutely show some skin."
In Eline's opinion, Talessa's wardrobe was pretty but boring, consisting of shades of white, ivory, and cream, all in the same long-sleeved, high-necked style. On the other hand, Tessie's tailor-made Eline the most colorful, magnificent dresses, perhaps to compensate for the lack of variety in her mistress's wardrobe. Eline decided it was time for a change. She also noticed the looks Elladan gave her mistress every time they met and was sure this was the dress to finally move things along. What a great matchmaker I am, she thought contentedly. She suspected Nídhiel thought the same about herself, as she always, very conveniently, led them somewhere where the young elven lord could be found.
"You’re wearing it," Eline declared, not letting her mistress protest anymore. She moved on to tighten the bodice and arrange the skirt.
Talessa sighed but let her do it. She slipped off her veil while Eline took the other from Nídhiel. The elf woman never asked why she wore the veils, but when a few days ago Talessa decided to remove it while it was just the three of them, she seemed to understand the significance of the act. She didn’t say anything, only embraced her friend with an understanding smile, and to Talessa's great relief, that was it.
Now Eline placed the blue veil on her head, arranging it to leave her mouth uncovered so she could eat and drink. Then the two of them left Nídhiel to prepare and retreated to their suite.
✧
Bertra was sitting in the living room, embroidery in hand. She had indeed recovered from the journey, and the next day, she decided that lounging around wasn’t for her. So, she joined the cooks in the kitchen and began learning their recipes. The elves treated her with respect, always speaking in the common tongue when she was around, providing her with anything she desired, and even giving her a small corner next to the oven where she could knit peacefully whenever she wished. She missed home and her old friends at the manor, but she didn’t regret coming. Her conscience wouldn’t have been clear if she had left her mistress to undertake the journey alone. Eline was a reliable girl, but she was still young and inexperienced. They needed someone to protect them in case anyone directed unwanted attention their way. Besides, she wasn’t that old. Those fifty years had only made her harder. She was in good shape—well, her joints ached sometimes, but all the resting here had helped with that.
She refused to join the celebratory dinners, though, so Talessa and Eline made sure to have their lunches with her instead, in the privacy of the suite. They were sometimes joined by the bubbly young lass Nídhiel or one of the Lord's sons, Elladan or Elrohir—she couldn’t tell them apart. She also noticed the attention one of the young men gave her mistress and decided this would certainly be a match worthy of her little Talessa.
"You will never guess what I heard in the kitchen just now," she greeted the two girls as they entered the room.
"Tell us then," urged Eline, hopping onto the couch next to her.
"There are new guests joining us, very special guests I was told," Bertra said, enjoying the suspense she was causing.
"Who?" asked Talessa, her curiosity awakened.
Bertra decided to take pity on them. "A group of dwarves," she said. "Apparently, they’ve been chased all the way here by some vile orcs."
"We heard about the orcs," said Talessa. "But what business did the dwarves have with them? Why would they be attacked?"
"I do not know, girl. You can ask your questions at dinner. I’m sure that Elrohir boy will be glad to answer them," said the old woman with a wink.
"Elladan," corrected Eline giggling.
Talessa gave them an exasperated look. Elladan was truly handsome, she could admit that, and also very polite, making sure they felt welcome, but everything else was only in Eline’s and Bertra’s imagination.
"Be careful with the new guests," said the maid now in a serious tone. "I heard dwarves can be crude and boorish. I say it’s best to keep your distance."
"It’s okay, Bert," shrugged Eline. "They will probably have better things to do than talk to us anyway."
✧
"Our new guest is a king," whispered Nídhiel as soon as the two women joined her in the dining hall. "King Thorin. He and his company are travelling to the Lonely Mountain on some secret mission. They also have a wizard with them. Isn't that exciting?"
"First time I will see a king," grinned Eline. "Or a wizard."
"Technically, Elrond could be considered a king," said Talessa with a mischievous smile. "So I’d say it’s the second time now, Eline."
"Now, do not let Elrond hear that—he is already way too confident about himself," laughed Nídhiel, patting her friend on the shoulder.
"I can't wait to see them," Eline said with a dreamy expression, excited about the prospect of a new experience.
"I wouldn't be so cheerful," Elladan joined them with a frown. "Dwarves are known to be ungracious and ill-mannered. They will probably make a big mess, and my father will be forced to throw them out."
"He would never do that," snorted Nídhiel.
"I’ve heard dwarves are rather merry, entertaining folk," countered Talessa. Elladan didn’t acknowledge that, instead his eyes seemed to have lingered on the woman’s dress. He cleared his throat.
"You look very beautiful today, Lady Talessa." Then, as if to correct himself, he added, "You too, Miss Eline."
Nídhiel suppressed a snort, trying to stifle her laugh. Before Elladan could say anything more, the doors opened, and a dozen dwarves filled the room.
Notes:
Our dwarves are appearing soon, I promise ˆˆ
Chapter 4: Thorin and Company
Chapter Text
Talessa was momentarily startled by the chaotic noise now filling the hall. She realized that all other conversations had ceased, except for those of the newcomers. They filled the smaller table prepared for them and began their meal straight away, laughing, nudging each other, and shouting, louder than the music playing in the background. Talessa tried not to stare, but it was difficult . This was the first time she had seen dwarves, and Elladan was somewhat right—they did not seem like particularly gallant folks. A few of them glanced in her direction, and one, a young-looking dwarf with dark hair, even gave her a cheeky wink. She quickly turned to her friends, but they were also busy sneaking glances at the newcomers.
Elrond walked in a moment later, followed by an old man dressed in all grey. That must be the wizard, she thought. The next person stepping into the room was also very obviously the king. He looked strong, stocky, but taller than the rest of his men. He might be the same height as Talessa. His clothes were made of fine materials but were clearly old and worn down. He had long, thick hair with some jewelled braids, but his beard was way shorter than all the others. The way he carried himself suggested authority, even the dwarves quieted down while he passed. Elrond seated them at the main table, just across Talessa and her friends. The dwarf's gaze fixed on her as he took his seat opposite. His face was stern, he didn't smile, unlike the wizard sitting next to him, who greeted everyone with cheerful glee. Talessa lowered her head, now feeling self-conscious about her dress, about the fact that her veil left her mouth uncovered. Eline noticed her discomfort and grabbed her hand under the table, squeezing it encouragingly. Talessa took a deep breath and looked up with—what she hoped was—a pleasant smile.
"Lady Talessa, Eline, this is my old friend, Gandalf the Grey," Elrond said, introducing the wizard. "And this," he continued, turning to the dwarf, "is Thorin Oakenshield."
"Pleased to make your acquaintances," said Gandalf. "A great but pleasant surprise to see Rohirrim here. What business are you on, if it is not too forward to ask?"
"How do you know where we are from?" interrupted Eline, her expression alarmed.
It was Elrond who replied. "My friend here has a vast knowledge; he can see many things most don't." He then turned to the wizard. "Lady Talessa is here on a family visit."
"She is half-elf" clarified Nídhiel, smiling at Gandalf. "They are vaguely related. And you are a wizard, are you not?"
Gandalf the Grey bowed his head with a laugh. "Indeed, a wizard I am."
Talessa glanced at Eline, who seemed to have recovered from her initial shock and was now listening to the conversation intently, just like Nídhiel. Elladan was uncharacteristically silent.
Talessa decided she liked the wizard, but the silent dwarf sitting across from her made her skin prickle with goosebumps. He made no attempt to be pleasant, and he looked as if he would rather be anywhere else.
✧
"This is Orcrist, the Goblin-Cleaver." Elrond examined the dwarf king’s sword, gently running his hand over the ancient runes engraved into the metal, then handed it back to Thorin. "A famous blade, forged by the High Elves of the West. My kin. May it serve you well."
Thorin nodded and returned the weapon to its sheath. Elrond then examined Gandalf’s sword.
"Glamdring, the Foe-hammer," he said, recognising it. "The sword of the King of Gondolin. These swords were made for the goblin wars of the First Age. How did they come into your possession?"
"We found them in a troll hoard on the Great East Road," Gandalf explained, smoothing out his beard. "Shortly before we were ambushed by orcs."
"What were you doing on the Great East Road?" Nídhiel leaned forward, but Elrond gave her a disapproving shake of his head, and she looked at Eline and Talessa with a dramatic eye-roll.
The wizard did not answer the question; instead, he quickly occupied himself with his wine, praising the rich flavor that, admittedly, he had only ever tasted in elven wines.
Meanwhile, Talessa noticed the dwarf king silently leaving the table to join his companions. It had been a good half hour since the food was served, but she realised that he had not touched his plate. Eline huffed at the clear impoliteness and whispered to her lady, "He must not like elven dishes... Or maybe they are up to something."
Talessa laughed softly and leaned closer to her friend.
"You said the same about the elves on our first night," she reminded her in a quiet voice , still smiling.
"That was about Lindir. And he is still very suspicious, if you ask me," retorted Eline with a mischievous smile, spearing a leaf of salad with her fork.
Talessa shook her head and turned back to Elrond and his companions.
"Thirteen dwarves and a halfling... Quite the peculiar party you've assembled, Gandalf," said the elf, amused.
"You're speaking of the descendants of Durin," the wizard replied. "They are all very honorable folk."
At that moment, one of the dwarves jumped onto the table and started singing a rather crude tune, drowning out the elven musicians. Soon, the others joined in—some throwing food around, others banging on the table in rhythm—all looking very pleased with themselves .
Talessa looked at the host with wide eyes as she dodged a piece of bread flying her way. Lord Elrond gritted his teeth, his expression carefully masking his displeasure , while Gandalf hunched over his food, pretending not to notice the commotion. Then, as she turned, a ripe, half-eaten pomegranate struck her square in the chest.
All of a sudden , everything slowed; the noise dulled to a distant buzz as she stared down at the vivid red stain spreading across her dress. It’s not blood, she tried to convince herself, it’s just a fruit. But the stain continued to spread, darkening in color , its texture thickening, and a foul, rotting smell filled her nostrils. She glanced at the table, where the discarded piece of fruit now lay, its core writhing with worms instead of lush seeds.
She shot to her feet, knocking her chair to the floor, and began backing away, desperately clawing at the soiled fabric. She felt hands reaching for her, gripping her arms, and then she was being led out of the dining room. As her head began to clear , she recognized Eline and Nídhiel at her side, gently guiding her to their suite. She heard Elladan catch up with them, urgently asking Nídhiel what had happened and if he could help, but the elven woman quickly told him to leave them be.
Talessa’s stomach twisted in realization: Elrond had seen her slip; everyone in that room had. Tears stung her eyes at the thought that after this, they would likely be sent home, her cousin convinced she was a lunatic.
✧
Thorin watched as the woman was led away. If he hadn’t seen her trembling body and unsteady posture, he might have thought she was putting on an act—to make their host despise his folk even more or perhaps to draw the attention of the young elf who had been gawking at her all evening. He wouldn’t know. He was not familiar with the scheming of women; he barely even knew any, besides his sister Dís and a few dwarf-maidens he had met while living among the Men.
Dwarf women were different from elves; they were resilient and bold, built stocky like the men of their kin. Elven and mortal women, on the other hand, were fair and graceful, but too delicate and frail for his taste. He looked again at the half-elven woman being guided out of the room, wondering what she looked like beneath that veil. Perhaps she was hiding a disfigured face, or maybe she was exceedingly beautiful—like all elves. Yet from her small frame, he would never have guessed her mixed heritage. He also wondered if there had always been something broken in her, or if it had just snapped now. And he wondered , too, if he would see her again.
His attention shifted back to his men, who had fallen silent, some glancing sheepishly at the now-empty seat.
“What was that all about?” Fíli whispered to Dori, but Thorin silenced them with a stern look , and they returned to what remained of their meal. He noted Kíli—the culprit who had thrown the fruit—looked guilty enough. Thorin thought he might still have a word with the lad about causing trouble in someone else's home, just to ensure his sister, Dís, couldn’t accuse him of neglecting his nephews' manners. But for now, all he wanted was some rest and a warm bath so that's what he did.
Chapter 5: Madness
Chapter Text
Talessa felt incredibly ashamed as she lay in her bed, hiding under the soft duvets. She knew very well that what had happened that afternoon would not be easily forgotten. She had not only managed to humiliate herself but also her friends and her host, and she worried that this would put an end to Elrond's generous hospitality.
She knew Eline and Bertra were in her room; she could hear the soft pacing of her friend and the steady clink of her maid's knitting needles. She heard the door open, and then Nídhiel's concerned voice asking how she was. She really ought to get out of bed and reassure her worried friends that she was all right, but she just wasn't ready yet.
✧
Nídhiel didn't know Talessa's story or why she always covered herself with clothes and veils. She was curious why such a beautiful young woman seemed to be hiding part of herself all the time, but she never dared to probe. Now, she realised that the problems might run deeper than she had thought.
They heard a knock on the chamber door. Eline looked at her questioningly, but she didn't know who it might be. After escorting Talessa back to her room, she had quickly ran down to the kitchen to get Bertra and some calming tea, making sure to avoid anyone who might ask questions, but she knew they couldn't avoid it forever.
Now, she and Eline stepped out into the living area and opened the entrance door to find Lindir there with a message from Elrond. The elven lord was requesting that someone come and explain to him what was troubling Lady Talessa.
A few minutes later, Eline and Nídhiel were sitting in Elrond’s study across a carved oak table with gold-tipped legs.
“Is it some kind of illness?” Elrond asked, getting straight to the point. "Her elven blood should prevent any disease, but living so long among Men—it might have affected that," he said with concern.
Eline hesitated, unsure how to articulate what she needed to say.
“Do you know what happened to her parents?” she finally asked.
“I heard about it," nodded the elf. "Their deaths were cruel, and they never found out who did it. I understood that Talessa wasn’t with them."
“That’s true, she was at home,” Eline confirmed. "But after that, she was never the same. She had nightmares and hallucinations for years. I heard her old nursemaid quit because she couldn't handle her waking up screaming and mumbling to ghosts all day. Bertra knows more about that, I wasn't working there back then."
Eline took a deep breath, remembering all the gossip and rumors she had heard about Tessie.
"She is fine now," she pleaded with the elven lord. "This was... just a mishap. It won't happen again."
"She didn't seem fine, though," said Nídhiel, her face full of concern. She turned to Elrond. "Do you think you can help her?"
"I must admit, matters of the mind are not my specialty," replied Elrond. "I will see what I can do."
He turned to Eline. "In the meantime, please make sure your lady has everything she needs and tell her to visit me when she is ready."
✧
The next day, Talessa found Elrond in one of the main building’s corridors, gazing out over the valley. The elf greeted her with a gentle smile and extended his arm. Talessa accepted it, and he began to guide her through the building. They paused to admire some of the glorious artworks as Elrond spoke about founding Imladris and what he had been up to over the past centuries. Talessa still forgot sometimes how old some of the elves were. Nídhiel was one of the youngest, yet she was already sixty-two. She wasn’t sure how old Elrond was, and she wasn't about to ask.
Their walk was pleasant, but Talessa knew that the more serious topics were approaching. So, when they stopped by the next mural—a scene of elves dancing around a bonfire, fireflies following their steps—she decided to speak up.
"I heard you talked to Eline about yesterday," she began.
She noticed that the paint had started to crack at the corners of the canvas. She reached out and ran her finger along the lines.
Elrond nodded.
"It was disconcerting to see you so upset. I needed to know what might have caused it."
"After my parents' deaths, I had the most horrible visions—of blood, of carnage." She glanced at her cousin. "I never saw their bodies, but I did see them. I kept seeing them, in the corner of my eyes, for years. Even now, before I left home, they were still there." She sighed. "I know I sound mad. Maybe I am, and I apologize for the inconvenience I caused."
"I can assure you, your presence has been nothing but a delight," said Elrond, taking hold of her arm again. They continued down the corridor. "You know, I met your mother. She spent some time here when she was younger, before she met your father and chose a mortal life. A delightful, precious woman. You remind me of her."
They were walking up a vast staircase now, and Elrond looked at her with kind eyes.
"I have a proposition for you. I am not the one who can help you, but I know someone who might be able to, if that is something you would like."
Talessa nodded eagerly, and the elf told her about Lady Galadriel, the elven queen of Lothlórien.
"She possesses the greatest knowledge of both body and soul healing in all of Middle-earth. She might be able to help you."
A spark of hope began to rise in Talessa's chest as the elven lord explained Galadriel's powers and how she might be able to solve her problem.
"My daughter, Arwen, is also staying in Lothlórien, and she would be delighted to meet you. I can arrange transport for you if you decide to undertake the journey."
"You are too kind, cousin. I will be forever obliged," replied Talessa, touched by the elf's kindness. The thought of someone being able to heal her, to forever stop the visions, filled her with hope and excitement.
Meanwhile, they reached a spacious balcony, and Talessa looked down at the stunning view of the vibrant, green valley below. At first, she didn’t realize they were not alone. The hobbit, Bilbo, who had traveled with the dwarves, was leaning against the railing, absorbed in the magnificent view of the Valley of Imladris.
“Not with your... companions?” Elrond asked, stepping beside him and startling the hobbit.
“No, I shan't be missed,” said Bilbo with a sad tone. “The truth is, most of them don't think I should be on this journey."
“Indeed?” Elrond raised an eyebrow. “I've heard hobbits are very resilient."
“Really?” Bilbo seemed very surprised by that remark.
Elrond smiled mysteriously and excused himself, claiming he was needed at a meeting. Talessa listened to the birdsong and the babbling of water in silence for a few moments before her curiosity took over.
"Tell me about this journey you are on, Mr. Bilbo,” she asked.
“Well, what is there to know?” he pondered. “We’re going to Erebor, the Lonely Mountain, so the dwarves can reclaim their kingdom from Smaug the dragon.”
"That sounds like a great adventure!" Talessa exclaimed earnestly, but the hobbit didn't seem to agree.
"And why now?” she asked.
Bilbo shrugged.
“That’s something you’d better ask Gandalf about. I wasn’t really informed. All I know is that they needed a burglar, and for some reason, they chose me.” His voice sounded disappointed, and it was clear he wasn’t thrilled about his newfound role.
“I’ve heard hobbits are excellent burglars,” the woman assured him. The hobbit looked at her sceptically, but Talessa just smiled and shrugged.
Bilbo hoped the lady was right.
✧
Eline knew she didn’t need to worry while Tessie was with the lord of the house, so she decided to explore parts of Imladris she hadn’t seen yet. At first, she wanted to find Nídhiel but ultimately decided against it. The elf was surely busy, especially since she had spent most of her time with them in recent days. So, Eline set off alone to explore the magnificent gardens and buildings, stopping occasionally at particularly picturesque groves or fountains.
She was sitting on a wooden bench, admiring a small waterfall in front of her, when she heard footsteps approaching. She tried to stand, but the newcomer quickly interjected:
“Don’t trouble yourself, my lady.”
Eline’s reaction was a surprised “Oh," as she recognized one of the dwarves from the previous day. His hair and beard were blonde, and he looked younger than the rest of them—quite handsome, if she were honest with herself.
“I’m Fíli,” the dwarf announced, bowing deeply.
“Oh, I’m Eline,” she introduced herself, blushing slightly. They stood there for a moment, staring at each other, before Eline came back to her senses.
“Would you like to join me?” she offered, and Fili grinned widely as he sat down beside her.
“The view here is splendid,” he said, looking around. “It perfectly matches a beautiful lady like yourself.”
“Thank you,” Eline mumbled, her face turning as red as a fresh tomato. “I should be heading back to the house now,” she added, glancing at the setting sun.
“Let me accompany you,” Fili immediately offered, and Eline hastily agreed.
✧
Talessa, Eline, and Nídhiel were strolling through the garden with Elladan when they ran into Lindir, who was walking the path, fuming.
“The cooks can’t keep up with the work,” he complained desperately as he joined them. “We’re even running out of wine.”
Elladan shook his head disapprovingly.
“Didn’t my father say how long they would stay?”
Lindir didn’t answer, as they had just reached the fountains, and the sight before them made everyone freeze in their steps, though none reacted as alarmed as the poor steward, who excused himself with a miserable expression and nearly ran away.
The thirteen dwarves were having a splendid time. They had claimed the largest fountain and were leaping from various levels with childish enthusiasm, chasing and pushing each other. Two figures sitting by the edge of one pool—one of whom Talessa recognized as Thorin—were also cheering on one of the younger dwarves, who leapt from the top of a tall stone statue into the water, only to scramble back up and jump again.
Nídhiel burst into nervous laughter. Talessa wasn’t sure if it was because of the fleeing elf or the sight of the naked dwarves in the fountain, but either way, it drew some attention to them.
“Hey, redhead, would you like to join us?” one of the dwarves called out to Eline, prompting the dwarf standing next to him to slap him so hard that he ended up face-first in the water, resurfacing a few meters away.
“Why on Earth would you do that, Fíli?” he exclaimed, bewildered.
“You can’t speak so disrespectfully to ladies, Kíli,” Fíli explained in a motherly tone. “As your brother, it’s my duty to ensure you learn proper manners.”
"You should use some manners too, then," retorted Kíli, raising an eyebrow at his brother. "After all, as I understand it, standing around naked in front of ladies is also considered improper."
Realising at that moment that the shallow water did little to cover his body, Fíli quickly jumped into the pool behind them, shooting angry glances at his brother while also sneaking embarrassed looks at the onlookers.
Talessa's gaze slid toward Thorin, and she was surprised to see he was looking at her too. She quickly looked away, forgetting that he wouldn't know where her gaze was, thanks to the veil. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Eline trying to hide a smile while Nídhiel continued to giggle.
Meanwhile, Elladan regained his composure and took an irritated step toward the bathing dwarves.
"This is a public place! You are insulting your hosts with this behavior," he announced haughtily, glancing at Talessa in the hopes of seeing a sign of approval. She didn’t think his intervention was very chivalrous. True, she was also a bit embarrassed by the sight of all the naked, hairy dwarves, but she didn’t think such an arrogant tone would encourage better behavior. It didn’t seem like they were playing in the fountain out of disrespect, but rather that they thought it was a perfectly normal afternoon pastime. Based on what she had heard about them, it was understandable that the company was not accustomed to gentler manners.
Elladan continued with a few more insulting remarks until the leader of the dwarves had enough. Thorin angrily stood up from his seat, jumped out of the fountain, and strode toward the elf with quick steps, completely naked, stopping only a few steps from him.
"If the host has a problem with us, he can come and tell us himself," he declared boldly, and although he was several heads shorter than the elf, his presence radiated authority, making him seem much larger. "Until then, we'll bathe where and how we please!"
The dwarves shouted in agreement and hurled insults at the elf. Elladan clenched his fists and looked like he was about to attack the dwarf king. Talessa quickly stepped between them.
"There's no need to argue, Elladan," she said to the elf, trying to sound as authoritative as possible.
"We were about to leave anyway, weren't we?" Nídhiel interjected with forced enthusiasm, linking arms with Elladan and dragging him away from the scene.
Talessa turned to Thorin, doing her best to ignore the fact that he was completely naked and forcing herself to look only at his face.
"Please forgive us for disturbing you."
The dwarf nodded curtly, then turned back to the fountain, muttering, "I can't stand this arrogant elven-folk."
Chapter 6: Farewells
Chapter Text
"That she should come with us?" Thorin grumbled. "Who do you think we are, wizard—some chaperones?"
"We're in a hurry, no time to escort ladies," Dwalin added.
Gandalf, so far unsuccessfully, had been trying to persuade the dwarves to accept Elrond's generous offer. He was asking them to allow Lady Talessa and her entourage to join them while crossing the Misty Mountains, ensuring the ladies' protection on the harsh pass in exchange for new ponies to replace the ones they had lost along the way.
"It's not about escorting," Gandalf sighed, exasperated. "It's just a short stretch of the journey. Would you rather they ventured into the Misty Mountains alone? Would you be so heartless, Thorin Oakenshield? Besides, without mounts, the crossing will take twice as long."
The dwarf grunted angrily, but he knew Gandalf had a point. His honor would not allow him to abandon defenseless maidens, and they couldn't afford to set off without horses. Still, it was infuriating.
✧
"I didn't think we'd have to part ways so soon," complained Nídhiel, standing beside Talessa's pony. The pale mare seemed to sense her sadness, gently nudging her with its nose. The elf absentmindedly scratched the animal's mane before turning back to her friend.
They were making the final preparations for their journey, and it was only a matter of minutes before Gandalf and Thorin Oakenshield would announce their departure. She could see Thorin shooting angry glances in their direction, and she knew this arrangement was certainly not his idea. But they had accepted Elrond's offer, and Talessa was very grateful to her cousin for arranging this opportunity, even though she would have preferred to stay a little longer.
Bertra stood next to Eline, squeezing her hand with concern.
"My girls, I wish I could go with you! It makes me nervous to think you'll be out there all alone, surrounded by all those brute menfolk."
"There's nothing to worry about, Bert," Eline assured her, glancing toward the group. Her eyes met Fíli's briefly, and she quickly looked away. "The dwarves aren't as bad as you think, and we also have an elven guard. Before you know it, we’ll be home again."
Bertra would leave for home tomorrow, and the plan was for Talessa and Eline to spend a month in Lothlórien before heading to the Quinmaer estate by a longer route, avoiding the Misty Mountains. Lord Elrond had assigned one of his most trusted guards, Ýrdor, to escort them all the way back home—another generous favor from the elven lord.
"Just remember to stay watchful and take care of your mistress," Bertra said, trying to stifle a tear.
"Oh, Berta, stop worrying about us," Talessa chimed in, smiling warmly at her old maid. "Everything will be fine."
They were already mounted and had said goodbye to almost everyone when Elladan and Elrohir rode into the courtyard. Elrohir nodded politely to the dwarves as they passed, while his brother refused to acknowledge them. He went straight to Talessa, dismounted from his large stallion, and bowed before taking her hand.
"It saddens me that we didn't have more time together, my lady," he said somberly. "I want you to know I volunteered to escort you, but my father had other duties for me."
"You are very kind," replied Talessa, flustered by his sudden display of emotion. "I understand you have more important matters than to escort a group of travelers. I'm sure Ýrdor will take good care of us."
"He is one of our father's most trusted guards," said Elrohir from a few step behind, waving as he rode off. "Safe journey, cousin!"
At that moment, Thorin Oakenshield gave the signal, and the company set off.
Talessa and Eline rode side by side near the front of the group, with Ýrdor and Ranold, one of the coachmen from Rohan, following a few steps behind. The other coachman would be taking Bertra home, escorted by her hired guards. Both Ýrdor and Ranold were serious, duty-bound men, speaking little as they focused on their tasks, guiding their tall, stocky mounts.
Talessa rode a skittish grey mare—short, elegant, and barely taller than the dwarves' ponies. Accustomed to riding, she didn’t mind the mare’s restlessness and admired its shiny coat and energetic gait.
The dwarves, true to their nature, began talking and singing as soon as they left the valley. Talessa wasn't sure how to feel about the noise, but she couldn't say it bothered her. In fact, their merriment started to ease some of her worries about the crossing. The cheerful conversation gave her a sense of security—something to focus on.
After a few minutes, a fair-haired dwarf—Fíli, if she remembered correctly—caught up with them, greeting them cheerfully.
"How are you feeling today, Lady Eline?" he asked the woman on his left. To Talessa's surprise, the usually confident and self-assured Eline seemed flustered by his attention.
"It's just Eline," she replied with a shy smile, glancing at Talessa.
Talessa raised an eyebrow, though her friend couldn’t see it. She urged her pony forward, deciding to give the two some privacy. Eline shot her a desperate look, but Talessa ignored it. Her mischievous side was curious to see where this was going— and she wanted her friend to enjoy herself a little.
She joined Gandalf at the front of the line, who seemed happy to have some company. He began telling her stories of their journey to Rivendell.
"And then, Bilbo—our clever Bilbo!" Gandalf laughed heartily. "He started explaining dwarf recipes to the three trolls! You should have seen how angry his companions were. But all he was doing was stalling for time, which, I must say, was very wise of him."
"And then?" asked Talessa, intrigued.
"And then... well, I came along," Gandalf winked.
"‘May the dawn take you!’" Kíli chimed in, imitating Gandalf's voice as he caught up beside them. "That's what he shouted, then he struck the rock so hard it split in two. Very heroic, if you ask me."
"And the trolls turned to stone?" Talessa asked. She had always thought the stories of stone-trolls were just legends, and having never seen a troll herself, she doubted their existence. But apparently, it was true.
"To stone—like some horrid, ugly statues," the dwarf confirmed.
Gandalf then told her the tale of Erebor and how the dragon Smaug had stolen it. It was a story Talessa had heard before, either in books or from one of her tutors, but Gandalf’s version was far more detailed and captivating. He also recounted the Battle of Moria, how Thorin's grandfather was killed by an orc named Azog, and how Thorin had defeated the orc and earned the name "Oakenshield."
Talessa listened to Gandalf's tales with an easy smile, laughing when Kíli interrupted with jokes and his own versions of events. A few other dwarves joined them for a chat, and Talessa found herself beginning to enjoy their company.
✧
The landscape was changing rapidly. After a few hours of travel, the gentle green hills grew steeper, and the vegetation thinned. Grass gave way to moss, which soon turned into barren rock. A few trees and clumps of weeds clung to the earth with stubborn roots, but in the distance, only snowy mountaintops were visible.
One moment, the company was riding along leisurely, and the next, a screeching crow flew up from behind a rock by the path, startling the horses. Ranold's mount jumped sideways, then reared in panic, its hind legs slipping off the path. In a matter of seconds, the servant and horse tumbled down the steep slope. For a moment, everything went silent. Talessa instinctively urged her horse closer to the ledge, but Eline grabbed her arm, stopping her.
"Are you alive, man?" one of the dwarves shouted, peering down. To everyone's relief, there was an answer. But when some of the dwarves climbed down to help Ranold, their relief was short-lived. The man had survived, but the horse had not, and Ranold's arm was twisted at an unnatural angle, clearly broken in at least two places.
"Can you heal him?" Thorin asked Gandalf.
"Healing is not my specialty," Gandalf admitted somberly. "He’ll need to be taken back to Rivendell."
"We don’t have time for that!" Thorin grumbled, glaring at the injured man as though this was all his fault.
The wizard sighed. "I will take him back and join you after. You should wait for me at the nearest safe place."
Thorin looked like he was about to argue but eventually nodded, settling the matter.
Gandalf and Ranold set off back to the Hidden Valley, while the rest of the company continued their journey, searching for a safe overlook or cave to rest for the afternoon.
✧
Talessa knew trouble was coming the moment she overheard Thorin’s conversation with Balin. The old dwarf had suggested the third potential resting spot they passed, insisting it was the perfect place to wait for Gandalf. Thorin, however, was determined to press on, even though Balin cautioned him that sunset was near.
A sense of dread began to creep over Talessa. This wasn’t what they had agreed with Gandalf. They were supposed to wait for him, and she knew the wizard's power—however old and fragile he might appear—could protect them from whatever dangers lay ahead on this ominous path.
She shared her concerns with Eline, who then went to speak with Fíli.
"I’m sorry," Fíli said, shaking his head. "If Thorin didn’t listen to Balin, he certainly won’t listen to me."
Eline's mouth twisted into a pout, and the dwarf quickly added, "But I wouldn’t worry. My uncle is wise. I’m sure he knows what he’s doing."
When Eline returned to share Fíli’s response, Talessa’s sense of dread deepened. Thorin might be wise, but his stubbornness and overconfidence could lead them into disaster. She feared he might be leading them to their doom.
Chapter 7: Misty Mountains
Chapter Text
The further they traveled, the more Talessa’s anxiety deepened. A sense of dread settled over her, one she hadn’t felt in a very long time. All the foliage had disappeared—only bare rocks and snow remained—and the path had narrowed so much that they had to move in single file. As she looked up, dark clouds loomed overhead. Glancing back at Eline, riding behind her, she could see the worry on her friend’s face.
"I really don’t like this!" Eline shouted over the howling wind.
"Thorin sent Kíli and Fíli to find shelter. I’m sure they’ll be back soon!" Talessa tried to sound calm, but she knew it didn’t fool Eline.
Ýrdor rode behind them, his face impassive, though the way his eyes scanned their surroundings showed his unease. Talessa tried to spot Thorin, but he was too far ahead, leading the group. The horses were becoming anxious as well, their steps more jittery, their heads tossing. Talessa gently stroked her pony’s mane, silently praying for it to stay calm, and closed her eyes for a moment. Instead of darkness, a vivid vision flashed before her—torrential rain, screaming wind, rocks flying through the air, terrified horses, and shouts of panic. Her eyes flew open, and though nothing had changed, the chill in the air had grown sharper. With trembling hands, she reached into her saddlebag for her gloves.
Just then, a brilliant flash of lightning lit the sky, followed by a deafening crack of thunder. Rain began to pour down in torrents. The horses pranced nervously as Thorin’s voice shouted for them to keep moving. The once difficult path became treacherous, with loose stones tumbling into the ravine beside them. The ponies pressed close to the solid rock wall, their hooves slipping on the wet stone.
Talessa’s veil became heavy and soaked, nearly blinding her. She clung to her pony’s mane, her tears of fear mixing with the cold rain. All she could hear was the roaring storm, and the only thing she could make out was the dark cloak of a dwarf ahead of her.
Suddenly, an earsplitting crack reverberated, louder than the thunder, followed by the sound of tumbling rocks.
"Look out!" she heard Dwalin shout. Then another voice called, "Stone-giants! We’re in the middle of their battle!"
A few pieces of the falling rock struck her horse, and the frightened animal reared and began backing toward the edge. Someone reached for the reins, but it only made the mare panic more. Talessa felt dizzy, her mind filled with the horrifying thought that if she fell into the ravine, she wouldn’t be as lucky as Ranold had been.
Thorin’s voice cut through the chaos, shouting for her to jump. For a moment, she imagined he was encouraging her to leap into the abyss, but then she realized what he meant. She struggled to swing her leg over the saddle, her drenched skirts tangling around her, but after a few desperate attempts, she managed to fall to the side.
Except her feet didn’t touch the ground. She flailed, grasping for something—anything—but there was nothing but empty air. She was certain it was the end. Then, strong hands grabbed her wrist, pulling her back. In seconds, she found herself held securely by a pair of firm arms.
She clung to her rescuer, her legs trembling violently from shock.
"It’s all right," she heard Thorin’s voice, though it was unusually gentle. "You’re safe now," he added before letting Eline take her. Talessa clung to her friend, burying her face in Eline’s fiery curls as she stroked her head soothingly.
The realization hit her—she had lost her horse. Though she had only known the mare for a day, her heart ached at the loss of such a gentle creature. Her people were known for their deep love of horses, and Talessa was no different.
Fíli and Kíli appeared moments later, disheveled but unharmed.
"There are stone-giants fighting to the east, so we can’t go on," Fíli reported grimly, and the dwarves groaned in frustration.
"But we found an empty cave a few miles from here," Kíli added.
"Why didn’t you lead with that?" exclaimed Gloin, his long red beard dripping with rain. The others cheered, and the mood lifted slightly.
Without her own mount, Talessa soon found herself seated in front of Thorin’s saddle. She shifted awkwardly, trying to find a comfortable position, but Thorin pulled her closer with one arm, stopping her from moving.
"Stop squirming, woman," he growled, tightening his grip around her waist. "The last thing we need is for you to fall off this beast too."
Talessa said nothing, and they set off at a steady pace through the storm.
"Thank you," she whispered after a minute, turning her head toward him.
Thorin responded with a grunt, adjusting his hold on her. She closed her eyes, relieved that no visions plagued her this time, and as exhaustion took over, she let her head rest against the dwarf king’s chest.
✧
As Kíli had suggested, the cave provided excellent shelter from the storm. The space was large, though a bit low, but it was sufficient for the ponies and the entire group to find refuge comfortably. Thorin allowed them to light a small fire but forbade any loud noises for safety. The dwarves busied themselves with changing and drying their wet clothes, speaking quietly as they ate their supper.
Thorin noticed that Lady Talessa was huddled in a corner, shivering from the cold and shaking her head at something her maid was saying. Her veil, drenched and nearly transparent, clung to her face. Though the dim light obscured her features, he could still discern the full curve of her lips and the straight line of her nose.
His thoughts were interrupted by Balin.
"Do you think there’s anything else out there besides us?" his faithful adviser asked, glancing at the cave entrance.
Thorin scrutinized the cave-mouth. "It doesn’t seem so," he replied. "But caves in the mountains are seldom unoccupied."
Balin surveyed the cave solemnly. Thorin gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.
"Get some rest, friend. We’ll start at first light."
Balin looked up questioningly. "We were supposed to wait in the mountains until Gandalf joined us. That was the plan."
"Plans change," Thorin said curtly, turning to change into dry clothes.
✧
"You can't stay like that, Tessie! Take one of my dresses," Eline urged. "I have a simple blue one that should fit you."
"You know that's not the issue," Talessa said, struggling to hold back her tears. She had just realized that with her horse, all her clothes and veils were lost as well. The thought of removing the only garments she had left made her deeply unsettled, even though her dress and veil were clinging uncomfortably to her skin.
"No one will say anything if you take off that veil," Eline insisted. "I'll ask them to pretend it's still on you if you want."
"It's okay. It will dry soon enough," Talessa said, turning away to find a spot by the wall. Eline sighed, then retrieved a dress from her bag, quickly changing into it without bothering to check if anyone was watching.
She walked over to Ýrdor, the elven guard, who seemed even more somber since the incident. Perhaps he felt guilty for not being the one to save Talessa, or maybe he just missed home—Eline would completely understand that.
"Would you mind keeping an eye on her?" she asked, glancing in Talessa’s direction. "I’ll fetch us some food."
Ýrdor nodded and turned his gaze toward Talessa, who was sitting by the wall with her knees pulled up to her chest.
Eline went in search of Dori, the dwarf responsible for their food portions, but the dim light made her task difficult. After a few minutes, she gave up and sighed in frustration, placing her hands on her hips.
"Can I help you, my lady?" Fíli appeared beside her. Eline smiled, relieved to see the friendly dwarf.
"I’m looking for Dori," she explained. "But I have no idea which one he is."
Fíli didn’t hesitate to guide her to Dori and then helped her carry the food back to their corner.
"What's wrong?" he asked, noticing Talessa curled up by the wall.
Eline shrugged and smiled sadly. "She’s just like that. She’s always been."
✧
“After we reclaim Erebor,” Kíli said, sitting down beside Thorin with a grunt, “you can start preparing for the wedding.”
Thorin stopped mid-chew, looking at his nephew in confusion. “What in Durin's name are you talking about?”
“It’s about Fíli,” Kíli explained. “He’s been trailing that Eline girl like a lovesick pup. We’d better be ready.”
Thorin let out an annoyed groan. “More likely, he’ll end up with a broken heart.”
“Don’t be so morose, uncle,” Kíli said with a grin. “You’ll too find a wife, one day!”
Thorin snorted, shaking his head at his nephew's nonsense. Still, he glanced toward the corner where the women were sitting and realized that Talessa hadn’t changed or discarded that wretched veil. Now irritated, he stood up and walked in their direction. Eline jumped up as the sullen dwarf approached and stepped in front of him before he could get closer to her mistress.
“What’s going on here?” Thorin demanded, glancing at the shivering woman behind the maid.
Ýrdor immediately joined Eline. “Step away from the ladies!” he warned Thorin, but the dwarf merely gave him an irritated look.
“Why hasn’t she changed yet?” Thorin demanded.
“She... you know she never takes her veils off,” Eline tried to explain. “I’ve tried to convince her, but she won’t. Just give her some time—”
“Nonsense,” the dwarf growled, stepping past Eline.
Ýrdor reached out to stop him, but Eline shook her head and stepped aside, allowing Thorin to approach her friend. She felt guilty for letting the dwarf handle Tessie, but she was also deeply worried that the woman might fall ill if she didn’t put on dry clothes.
✧
Talessa remained silent as Thorin knelt in front of her. When he reached out to grab her veil, she placed her hands on his, weakly pushing them away. To her surprise, he didn’t try to force it.
“You need to change,” he said, his tone uncharacteristically calm.
“I lost my veils,” Talessa mumbled, her hands still gripping his, her voice sorrowful as if she had lost a chest of gold rather than a few pieces of fabric.
Thorin looked at her puzzled, but kept his face straight.
“I need them,” the woman pleaded, her face turned toward him, and he could almost make out her eyes.
He stood up and strode back to Eline. “You must have something she can use,” he told her sternly. “Let me see your dresses!”
Eline, taken aback, didn’t think to protest. She gestured to her saddlebag on the floor, and Thorin started going through it immediately. After some digging, he pulled out one of Eline’s chemises—a light, translucent garment. She silently cursed herself for not thinking of it earlier. Thorin drew a dagger from his belt and quickly cut the fabric into a square large enough to serve as a makeshift veil. He walked back to Talessa with the new veil in hand.
✧
Talessa watched as Thorin approached with the fabric. He knelt down again, and she straightened her back, facing him. This time, when he reached for her veil, she didn’t resist. She allowed him to remove the soiled fabric from her head. Their eyes met—Talessa’s teary and wide, Thorin’s dark and resolute. He absently traced a finger over her pointy ear before placing the new veil on her head and arranging it with care.
Then he stood, pulling her gently with him. They faced each other, and without thinking, Talessa slipped her hands into his. They both stared at their joined hands—hers small and soft, fitting snugly into his calloused, large grasp. When she looked up, Thorin had a strange expression on his face. He cleared his throat, then pulled his hands away.
“Now go, change,” he commanded, though there was no harshness in his voice.
✧
That night, Thorin’s dreams were haunted by a silver-haired elven woman with eyes so light they seemed to look right into his soul. Meanwhile, Talessa fell asleep with the scent of rain and pines lingering in her nose and a memory of strong arms holding her.
Chapter 8: Goblin Town
Chapter Text
Talessa was startled awake by the sound of muffled voices. Sitting up quietly, she noticed Bilbo and one of the dwarves—Bofur, maybe—standing near the cave entrance.
"No, no, you can't turn back now, eh?" Bofur said, looking at Bilbo with concern. "You're part of the company; you're one of us."
"I'm not, though, am I?" Bilbo shot back. "Thorin thinks I should never have come, and he's right." He shook his head. "I don’t know what I was thinking."
"You're homesick," the dwarf replied kindly. "I understand."
"No, you don't. None of you do." Bilbo's voice was sharp. "You’re dwarves—you're used to this life. Living on the road, never settling, never truly belonging anywhere!"
Talessa gasped at the hobbit's harsh words. Everyone knew the dwarves' story—how they had lost their home to Smaug and had wandered Middle-earth ever since, working hard to survive without finding a place to call their own. Her heart ached at the thought of such rootlessness, of being deprived of somewhere safe to return to.
"I'm sorry," Bilbo murmured, his anger fading. "I didn't mean—"
"No, you're right." Bofur's voice was quiet now as he looked around the cave at his sleeping companions, a defeated expression on his face. "We don't belong anywhere."
Talessa glanced toward Thorin, who lay among his men, and wondered what it must feel like to be a king without a throne. But now, at least, they had a chance to reclaim their long-lost kingdom.
When she turned back to Bilbo and Bofur, she saw them both staring at Bilbo's sword, now glowing blue. Their confusion lasted only a moment before Thorin's voice cut through the stillness: "Wake up!"
And then, without warning, the earth opened beneath them, and they were falling.
✧
Thorin didn’t have time to react, only to brace himself for impact as they dropped through the cave’s floor, his men yelling in surprise. They tumbled down a rocky hollow for what felt like minutes before they landed harshly on a ramshackle bridge in a network of sprawling caves. A goblin den, by the looks of it.
In a matter of moments, they were swarmed by hundreds of the nasty creatures. This was going to be tough, and Thorin damn well hoped the elven guard was skilled enough to protect the women he’d been charged with.
✧
Eline held onto Tessie as they fell, her scream cut short when her back slammed against a jagged rock. They landed atop Ýrdor and some of the dwarves below. The elven guard quickly pulled them to their feet, shielding them as an army of strange, deformed creatures flooded the cavern. Orcs—or goblins, she realized. These must be the deep-dwelling pests of the Misty Mountains.
Struggling to keep a hold on her stumbling friend, Eline was pushed and dragged forward, towards the center of the horrid construction. She glanced back, trying to find Fíli, but all she could see was Bilbo, crouched on the ground, unnoticed by the goblins. Her eyes met Bofur’s, who also saw the hobbit’s lucky break. Maybe he can escape, she thought with a small sense of relief, even if none of us will.
They were led before a massive goblin with a head nearly as large as his belly. The dwarves’ weapons had been stripped from them, now piled in front of the creature’s crude throne.
“Who would be so bold as to come armed into my kingdom?” bellowed the grotesque creature. “Spies? Thieves? Assassins?"
“Dwarves, your Malevolence,” one of the goblins hissed. “We found them on the Front Porch.”
“And what are you doing in these parts?” the goblin leader sneered, but none of the dwarves answered. Silence fell over the group, not a single one willing to betray Thorin’s plans.
“Very well, if they won’t talk, we’ll make them squawk.” His grin widened as he gestured towards Ori. “Start with the youngest.”
Two goblins grabbed the poor dwarf and began dragging him forward.
“Wait!” Thorin called, stepping to the front. His calm demeanor amazed Eline—her own body was trembling from fear. She noticed Tessie straighten beside her, letting out a shaky breath, her gaze following Thorin’s every move. Eline squeezed her hand, and Tessie buried her face in Eline’s shoulder, turning away from the terrible scene.
Something brushed Eline’s arm, and she jerked, trying to move away from the slimy touch.
“It’s just me,” Fíli whispered, slipping up behind them. Eline exhaled in relief and slid her free hand into his. He squeezed it gently, trying to calm her.
Unfortunately, the Great Goblin recognized Thorin. Worse yet, an orc named Azog, whom Thorin had thought long dead, had placed a bounty on his head. Just the head. The goblin leader seemed thrilled with this discovery.
“Send word to the Pale Orc,” he ordered one of his creatures, which scribbled something on a scrap of lambskin before scurrying off.
The goblin-king started to hum a disturbing tune about Goblin-town as his minions eagerly sifted through the dwarves' belongings. When one of them lifted a sword, the creature let out a horrified screech, halting all the noise.
“The Goblin-cleaver!” the leader shrieked. “The Biter! The blade that sliced a thousand necks!”
“Beat them! Slash them! Kill them!” he screamed.
The goblins lunged, viciously kicking and striking the dwarves. Ýrdor threw himself over Eline and Tessie, shielding them as the blows rained down. Fíli and some of the others tried to form a protective circle, but they were badly outnumbered.
Just then, a blinding light burst through the cavern, and the goblins shrieked, pulling back, some tumbling off the platform in terror.
Eline recognized Gandalf’s voice as he shouted, “Take up arms! Fight!” and then they were running, the dwarves cutting their way through the swarm of goblins.
✧
“Well, that could have been worse,” Bofur stated as they lay crumpled and bruised in the pile of wood they'd fallen onto, all the way to the bottom of Goblin-town. At that moment, the Great Goblin’s humongous body crashed into the pile, flattening it even more.
“You’ve got to be joking!” Dwalin gritted, pushing a board off himself before setting out to free the massive Bombur.
During the fall, Thorin had managed to grab Talessa, wrapping her in his arms to take the brunt of the impact. Now, the dazed woman was squirming on top of him, her—somehow still intact—veil covering Thorin’s face, and he was sure some of her hair had ended up in his mouth. He pushed on the nearest beam, slipped through a gap, and pulled the woman with him. After helping her to her feet, Thorin quickly brushed over her torso with his hands, checking for any injuries. Thank Durin, he found none.
“We need to get to sunlight!” Gandalf warned, looking up at the swarm of goblins descending from the steep walls. Quickly, they freed the rest of the company and ran for the narrow opening on the mountainside.
✧
“Five... six... seven... Bifur, Bofur,” Gandalf counted. “Twelve... Bombur... the two ladies, Ýrdor. Where is Bilbo? Where is our hobbit?”
Talessa sat on a rock, her expression solemn, still shaken from the near-death experience. She was eternally grateful to Ýrdor and the dwarves for protecting her and Eline, making sure they escaped with the least injuries possible. Now, she joined the others in looking around, trying to find the hobbit.
“I think I saw him slip away when they first collared us,” Bofur admitted.
“I’ve seen him too,” Eline whispered as she sat next to Talessa. “Do you think he’s all right?”
“I’m sure—” Talessa began, but Thorin's voice interrupted. He was claiming that the hobbit had taken his chance and gone back home.
“We will not be seeing our hobbit again. He is long gone,” Thorin concluded.
Talessa wasn’t so sure. True, Bilbo hadn’t seemed overly keen on the adventure, but he had come this far. Surely, he wouldn’t have turned back now—and certainly not left them behind.
“I don’t know—” she started again, but was cut off by a familiar voice.
Bilbo stepped out from behind a tree, announcing that he, in fact, had not left. The company collectively sighed in relief at the sight of their burglar.
“Bilbo Baggins, I have never been so glad to see anyone in my life,” Gandalf laughed.
“How on earth did you get past the goblins?” Fili asked, but the wizard interrupted.
“What does it matter? He’s back.”
Thorin, however, was not satisfied. “It matters,” he said, fixing his heavy gaze on the hobbit. “I want to know. Why did you come back?”
Bilbo hesitated for a moment, then spoke sincerely, “You doubt me. I know you always have. And you're right, I often think of Bag-End. I miss my books, my armchair, and my garden. Because that's where I belong—that’s home. But that’s why I came back... because you don’t have one. A home. It was taken from you. But I’ll help you take it back if I can.”
The company looked at the hobbit in silence, their expressions touched. Even Thorin’s gaze seemed to soften.
Suddenly, a cacophony of wolf-like howls and roars echoed from nearby.
“Wargs!” Thorin shouted, and without another word, they were running again. Thorin wasn’t sure where they were heading—he just hoped they would reach a place where they could defend themselves.
Chapter 9: The Great Eagles
Chapter Text
Talessa ran as fast as she could. She heard branches breaking behind them, the wargs' growls growing closer. She tried hard to focus on the terrain ahead, but it was difficult to spot the protruding roots, loose stones, and holes. She kept stumbling, her skirts tangling around her legs, but Ýrdor was there, pulling her upright and dragging her along when she faltered. Eline, faster and stronger, had already gotten ahead, and Talessa was infinitely relieved for that. The sun was sinking fast, and the trees’ thick foliage filtered out what little light remained.
Sounds of fighting reached her from up ahead, and she heard Gandalf’s voice commanding them to climb the trees. Everything felt distant. Then she fell, hitting the ground hard, trying to brace herself with her hands. A beast’s growl rumbled above her, and as she rolled onto her back, she was met with the sight of a warg's enormous fangs. Its foul breath hit her, and before it could bite, a flash of movement appeared in the corner of her eye—Ýrdor was upon the beast, his sword slashing through its side with practiced ease. But another warg was already attacking him.
Talessa scrambled to her feet, backing away in fear. She saw a third warg approaching behind Ýrdor, this one with a rider on its back. Before she could shout a warning, the rider—a cruel-looking orc—thrust his sword into Ýrdor’s back. Frozen in shock, Talessa watched as the elf fell to his knees, his eyes hollow. The orc turned his gaze to her.
Panicking, she spun to flee but ran straight into a blue-gray warg, its fur lighter than the others she had seen. Dread filled her as she looked up to meet the eyes of a pale orc. His face contorted into a malicious grin.
"Look at what we have here," he sneered in the common tongue, his accent thick and twisted. Before Talessa could react, the orc hauled her up onto the warg, holding her tightly.
"And who might you be?" he asked mockingly, ripping her veil from her head to scrutinize her face. He let out a harsh, cruel laugh before tossing the veil back onto her.
“The half-elven lady of Rohan,” he said, and all the blood drained from Talessa's face. Does he know her somehow?
She squirmed, trying to break free, but the orc’s grip was unyielding. They began moving forward, and in the distance, she could see more wargs circling trees, trying to climb and leap. The dwarf company was barely holding on.
“I killed your parents, girl,” the pale orc continued, his voice filled with malice. “They came too close to my den, so I ripped them apart. I’ll never forget your mother—such beauty. But she screamed so harshly when I finished off her husband. You look just like her.” He leaned in and took a long, revolting sniff of her neck. “Your fear smells just like hers.”
Talessa barely registered his words, her world spinning. The image of her parents, their eyes weeping blood, filled her vision. She had a sinking feeling they'd tried to warn her of this all along. If she had stayed at home, none of this would’ve happened. Eline would be safe. What would Eline’s parents think if their daughter never returned? What would the household think?
“I will keep you,” the orc said, his voice dripping with malice. “Once I’ve finished with this dwarf scum, I’ll take you to Weathertop Hill. It’ll be a pleasure to break your pretty face... slowly. Until you beg for death.”
Talessa turned her head away, numb, catching the scent of burning wood. She realized the dwarves had only one tree left, hanging at an odd angle over a cliff. The fire held back the wargs for now. She counted the dwarves and felt a sliver of relief—they were all still alive.
Eline’s frantic scream pierced through the battle, calling her name. Talessa spotted her friend, clutching a branch of the tilted tree. But before she could respond, the pale orc spoke again, this time in Orkish. Though she couldn’t understand his words, she realized he was addressing Thorin Oakenshield. It hit her then: this orc was Azog, the one who had killed Thorin's grandfather and her own parents.
Thorin stood on a branch, his expression blank for a moment, then shifting into one of furious determination. He charged Azog without hesitation.
The pale orc hurled Talessa off the warg’s back. She hit the ground hard next to a burning log, her head spinning. She heard the clash of steel and watched in horror as Thorin was struck in the chest by Azog’s mace. The dwarf fought back, but he was too injured, and the warg tossed him aside like a rag doll. Talessa winced at Thorin’s pained cry and the desperate shouts from the dwarves still in the tree.
An orc footsoldier approached Thorin, weapon raised, but just as the dwarf reached for his sword—too far out of reach—a small figure leaped onto the orc, knocking him off balance. It was Bilbo. Talessa stared, stunned, as the hobbit plunged his blade into the orc's chest. Bilbo stood protectively over the fallen Thorin, raising his sword toward Azog.
Before the orc could attack, the dwarves let out a battle cry and charged the remaining enemies.
Talessa tried to stand, her legs too weak to carry her, so she crawled towards Thorin. Reaching him, she leaned over him, looking for injuries. His face was bloodied, but there didn’t seem to be any mortal wounds.
“Tessie!” she heard Eline shout through the chaos, reaching out from the branch. Talessa was about to move when a screech echoed overhead. She looked up and saw giant eagles descending into the fray. Fear clutched her—had more enemies come?
But the eagles attacked the orcs and wargs instead. Some of them swooped down and gently lifted the dwarves into the air. Talessa moved aside as one eagle carefully picked up Thorin. She grabbed his shield before another eagle came to take her away as well.
They soared over snow-capped mountains, lush forests, and rivers glinting in the morning sun. The great eagles finally set them down on a tall, narrow cliff, then circled once before disappearing into the horizon.
✧
Gandalf rushed to Thorin, kneeling beside the unconscious dwarf. He muttered softly in a foreign tongue, his hands gently placed on Thorin’s chest. To everyone’s immense relief, Thorin stirred and slowly opened his eyes.
“The women?” Thorin asked, dazed. “The halfling?”
“It’s all right,” Gandalf assured him, his voice steady. “They’re here. We all got away.”
Dwalin and Kíli helped Thorin to his feet. Still unsteady, he glanced toward the two women sitting nearby, their arms wrapped around their legs, their dressed thorn and dirty. Eline’s face was filled with visible relief. Talessa’s expression was harder to discern, her tattered but still intact veil obscuring her face.
Thorin’s gaze shifted to Bilbo. He strode toward the hobbit, his face a mixture of disbelief and awe.
“What were you thinking?” Thorin asked, his voice stern but softened by the weight of recent events. “You nearly got yourself killed! Didn’t I say you were a burden? That you had no place among us?”
He paused, taking a breath before continuing. “I have never been so wrong in all my life.”
He meant the words wholeheartedly. The hobbit's bravery and commitment touched him deeply and he embraced the surprised halfling. The company erupted into cheers and laughter at the sight, their spirits lifted.
But then, as if on cue, a hush fell over the group. Thorin followed their collective gaze and froze. There, in the distance, standing proud and resolute against the horizon, was Erebor. The Lonely Mountain.
Thorin’s breath caught in his throat. His eyes filled with longing as he whispered, “Our home.”
It was so close now. Soon, they would reach it.
✧
Talessa sat in silence, her thoughts heavy with the revelation about her parents. She hadn’t told Eline. She tried, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, she let her friend hold her hands, reassuring her that the worst was behind them and that they would soon be safe. Talessa wanted desperately to believe her.
“I assume the elf didn’t make it,” Thorin said solemnly as he approached them. Talessa stood, facing him.
“No,” she replied softly, her voice small. “He didn’t.”
Thorin’s hand twitched, as if he wanted to offer comfort, but he stopped himself. His eyes fell to the object she was clutching tightly to her chest. It was his shield—the one made from the trunk of an oak tree and reinforced with mithril, the nearly impenetrable metal his ancestors had discovered long ago. He had thought it lost in the chaos of the fight.
“I... I thought you wouldn’t want to leave this behind,” Talessa said, extending it toward him.
Thorin took the shield, strapping it onto his back. But then, in an uncharacteristic moment of impulse, he reached for Talessa’s hands, lifting them gently to his lips. He pressed a kiss to her knuckles.
“Thank you,” he said, his voice low, still holding her hands.
“You’re hurt,” Talessa whispered, her fingers brushing softly against the bruise on his cheekbone.
“It’s nothing,” Thorin reassured her, his grip tightening on her hands as his thumb gently stroked her exposed wrist. “Dwarves heal fast. It’ll be gone in no time.”
✧
Eline’s eyes met Fíli’s as they both tried not to stare at the exchange between Thorin and Talessa. She raised her eyebrows at him, wordlessly asking what was going on, but he only shrugged, indicating he had no more idea than she did. Thorin had never struck Eline as caring or gentle, yet now he seemed almost gentlemanly, holding Tessie’s hands, conversing in low tones. Whatever this was, she hoped it would work in their favor, especially now that they were without a guard.
Tessie had told her how Ýrdor died—fighting, trying to protect her. Eline could see the guilt in her friend’s eyes, the weight of self-blame. But she knew it wasn’t Tessie’s fault. Ýrdor had been loyal, bound by his master’s orders to protect them until his last breath.
Eline thought back to how simple this journey had once seemed, their only discomfort being long days of riding. But then they were swept up into the dwarves’ dangerous quest. Despite the fear and uncertainty, Eline didn’t regret it. A part of her even enjoyed the thrill. She had grown fond of many of the dwarves, and she only hoped their leader would be kind enough to allow them to continue traveling with the company.
The dwarves were preparing to set off again. To her delight, Dori still had his backpack full of dried beef, biscuits, and apples, handing out portions for the day. Eline was feeling the effects of their meager rations, and she longed for a proper meal. Whenever they reached their destination, she hoped they would be welcomed with a feast. She thought sadly of their lost belongings. Aside from a small kitchen knife, a handkerchief, and a bag of gold coins in her pocket, all she had were the clothes on her back. She knew she will never hear the end of it when good old Bertra hears about their misadventure. Not to mention her parents and her little brothers. Oh, how he missed them!
Eline worried about Tessie too. The veil on her head was torn and battered, and she knew it was only a matter of time before it fell apart. And then, what would they do? It was something she had never pressed her mistress on. Tessie had always been reasonable and understanding, but the veil was one thing she never seemed able to let go of.
She glanced over at Thorin, now giving orders to his men. Eline remembered how he had convinced Tessie to reveal her face back in the cave. A thought crossed her mind—perhaps Thorin might be the one to help Tessie with this burden. For a moment, she considered talking to him about it, but then she hesitated. The dwarven king surely had more pressing concerns than their personal troubles.
Chapter 10: Skin-changer
Chapter Text
"Let's look on the bright side," Bofur declared. "At least we made it through the Misty Mountains."
The company looked at him doubtfully. It was true they had made it through, but they were far from safe. They had been running for days, trying to get as far away from the orc horde chasing them as possible. Without mounts, they were slow, and eventually, the orcs caught up to them.
Now, they were taking refuge among a shelter of rocks, waiting for Bilbo's return. He had been sent out to see how far behind the pack was. The hobbit didn't bring back any good news. The orcs were too close, and there was another threat—a big, bear-like beast lurking in the forest.
Gandalf claimed he knew of a safe place, so they followed the wizard, hoping they could finally get some rest from all their enemies.
The women were quiet companions, though that wasn't surprising after all they had been through. In truth, the dwarves had started to admire them a little. They had shown just as much resilience as dwarven women would, keeping up with their rapid pace, not complaining about having to sleep on rocky ground, without fire or any comfort. They had become part of the company now, and Thorin had no plans to change that anytime soon.
They were nearing the end of a charming forest when Talessa started to hear the wargs' howls. She knew they were about to run again, but this time she was more prepared. A few days ago, they had cut their skirts just above the ankle to make movement easier. Talessa was grateful for their skillful shoemaker, as both her and Eline's boots were holding up well, even after all this walking.
Now, as she ran, she kept her eyes ahead, dodging branches and jumping over logs and rocks. Despite her frail appearance, her elven blood gave her endurance, allowing her to keep up with the much more strongly built dwarves.
They reached a clearing, with the cottage they were headed for just a few feet away. A deep roar shook the ground, and she didn't need to glance back to know that the monster Bilbo had mentioned was now chasing them. She watched in surprise as the plump Bofur sprinted past her to the front of the line, and finally, they were in the courtyard. The dwarves swarmed in, banging on the door desperately, and Talessa quickly stepped forward, lifting the latch above their heads, opening the door. They rushed inside, slamming the door shut just as the enormous beast reached it. They let out a collective sigh of relief at the narrow escape.
Their host's name was Beorn, and he was the bear-like creature that had been chasing them, Gandalf admitted to everyone's displeasure. He was a skin-changer, and the wizard claimed he could be quite reasonable when in human form (though not overly fond of dwarves). With no better options, they agreed to stay the night.
The house was a mix of a cottage and a barn, with a pair of longhorn cows, a donkey, and a couple of goats inside. Talessa found it very cozy and charming in its own way. As they made their beds in the hay, a baby goat approached her, playfully poking her with its muzzle. She let out a surprised laugh, patting the small creature's head. She realized she hadn't laughed in a while—none of them had. The constant threat of orcs had taken away all the joy they might have found along the way, and it saddened her, knowing how cheerful the dwarves had been before.
✧
Talessa slept well that night, waking with the sun. Some of the others were still sleeping, but she noticed a couple of dwarves sitting at the table, quietly conversing with a giant man she assumed was Beorn, their host. He didn't seem upset or aggressive at all, which was a welcome development. She stood up and walked over to them, greeting them in a cheerful voice. The host bowed his head and gestured for her to sit, placing a platter of cheese and a cup of fresh milk in front of her.
She felt some movement at the hem of her skirt—a little white mouse was trying to climb up the fabric. She marveled at the tiny creature's bravery and reached down, letting it crawl into her palm. She tore off a piece of cheese and offered it to the mouse, then gently placed it on the floor, watching it scurry away.
"It is rare to meet someone who can appreciate creatures weaker and smaller than themselves," mused Beorn, his eyes following the disappearing mouse before turning to Talessa. "What is your business with the dwarves?" he asked with genuine curiosity.
Talessa quickly explained their original destination, how they came to join the company, and how they were now stuck with them.
"I can give you horses," the skin-changer offered. "My mounts could take you to the nearest human settlement in the south, so you can continue your journey."
"There is no need for that," came Thorin's voice from behind Talessa before she could respond. "The women are staying with us. It is too dangerous out there."
Talessa stared at the dwarf, irritated by his unsolicited intervention. For the first time, she cursed her veil for preventing her from looking directly into his eyes.
"We shall consider your generous offer," she replied to the host warmly. She knew it was dangerous for just the two of them, but wasn’t it equally dangerous with the company, especially with Azog's bounty on their leader's head? And how long should they continue to follow the dwarves anyway? Their paths were different, each with their own mission to complete. Yet, the thought of parting filled her with an unfamiliar anxiety.
When Eline woke, the two women walked down to the creek at the back, intending to wash themselves and their clothes. Fíli and Kíli joined them, with Kíli only there to mock Fíli's increasingly obvious advances towards Eline with crude jokes and inappropriate suggestions until Fíli finally had enough and challenged him to a wrestling match.
Talessa watched them, smiling. When Fíli returned—victorious—she offered to wash Eline's clothes too, while the girl joined the dwarf for a walk around Beorn's farm. Fíli, acting the gentleman, turned away while Eline shed her outer layers, then gave her his cloak to cover herself until her clothes were wearable again.
Talessa took off her dress as well, leaving only her lace chemise. After everything they had been through, she couldn't care less if any of the dwarves saw her in her underwear.
✧
Thorin found Talessa sitting by the river, surrounded by mellow apple trees, staring into the distance. Piles of clothes lay beside her, drying in the last warmth of autumn. He only realized she wasn't fully dressed when he got closer, noticing her silhouette through the thin fabric. He considered turning away, but she had already noticed him, turning her head and greeting him with a small "Hello."
So, he decided to join her, sitting down next to her.
"You should wash this too," he said, tugging on her dirty veil. "Everyone is busy inside. They won’t come here anytime soon."
She seemed to hesitate but then removed the veil from her head, turning away from Thorin as she dipped it into the clear water, laying it out with the other fabrics to dry. She kept her gaze forward, as if trying to hide her face, though Thorin had seen it before—and thought it was one of the most beautiful faces he'd ever seen. He reached out slowly, gently taking her chin and turning it towards him. Their eyes met, and he felt lost again in the depth of her pale blue gaze, like gems that could only be found in the deepest layers of the mountains.
"We need to leave," she said sadly. "You know we have to. This is our chance to get to Lothlórien."
Thorin didn't want to hear it. He had already decided the women were coming with them to Erebor. What would happen after that, he didn't know, but he was not ready to let them go—to lose this mysterious, peculiar woman.
"You are coming with us," he stated firmly, standing when she tried to object. "It is already decided. The lands are infested with orcs and other dark creatures. The only way you can stay safe is with us."
"We are an inconvenience for you," she argued, also standing, but Thorin silenced her with a look.
She stood there, her eyes searching his, and he stepped closer.
"You and your friend are not inconveniences. You are just as much a part of the group now as any of us," he said earnestly.
Talessa sighed but gave him a small nod, and he felt relieved by her consent.
He looked down and realized their bodies were almost touching, the only thing separating him from her was the thin lace of her chemise. He was about to step back, even though every instinct told him otherwise, but then she reached out, placing her hands on his chest, eyes downcast.
"I can wash your clothes too," she offered, nodding at his muddy pants and stained shirt, "if you wish."
"I will wash them myself," he replied, his voice soft.
She stepped back and sat down again, looking up at him as he began stripping off his many layers. The autumn air felt great against his skin, and he thought the water would be refreshing, so he slipped off his trunks and waded into the cool river. It was shallow, barely reaching his stomach, and he started cleaning himself in the fresh stream.
Talessa watched him from the riverbank, her feet dangling in the water. Her gaze didn't shy away from his body, as he might have expected.
"I’ve already seen you naked," she laughed, as if reading his thoughts. "All of you, in fact, in Rivendell."
He remembered then, the incident when he had let his men use the elves' precious fountains as a communal bath, just to spite their haughty hosts. He shook his head at the memory.
When he finished washing, he walked out of the water and sat beside her. She was playing with the hem of her chemise, stealing glances at him. He wasn’t so subtle—he stared openly, admiring her moonlight hair and soft features. His gaze wandered lower. The fabric did little to cover her body; he could make out the swell of her breast, the curve of her waist. For the first time in a long while, he felt desire.
Talessa tried not to be obvious as she stared at Thorin. She had seen a naked body before, but she had never truly looked at one like this. Thorin's body was strong, his muscles defined, and she found herself thinking how very attractive he was. His closeness made her feel warm, a pleasant sensation blooming deep in her belly. She felt a powerful urge to touch him, so she cautiously reached out, running a hand over his chest, feeling the dark hair, and trailing down to his stomach.
Thorin straightened suddenly, looking at her with an expression she couldn't quite read. Then, he kissed her. It was a short, tentative peck on the lips, as if he was asking a question. She stared at him, eyes wide, her heart racing. Her mind went blank, with only one clear thought: she wanted more. Whatever Thorin was giving her, she wanted it. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his, and he kissed her again, his arms wrapping around her, pulling her close. She clung to him desperately, her hands tangling in the hair at the back of his head.
They parted for a moment, panting. Then Thorin gently pushed her onto her back, climbing on top of her. She could feel the hard bulge pressing between her legs, only the thin fabric of her chemise separating them. He caressed her body, his mouth never leaving hers, his hips slowly rocking into her. The pleasure building in her core made her want to scream.
A not-so-distant yell interrupted them—Fíli calling out to someone in the house—and they knew their time was up. Thorin quickly jumped up, grabbing his still-damp clothes and pulling them on hastily. Talessa remained seated, looking at him with wide, hazy eyes.
Thorin knelt down beside her, trying to smooth out and arrange her chemise. He pressed a kiss to her forehead with a heavy sigh, then gently placed her veil back on her head with one last, lingering touch.
✧
During that night's dinner, Gandalf managed to convince Beorn to lend them his horses until they reached Mirkwood, and they made arrangements for an early morning departure. The skin-changer kindly gave the women some of his old blankets to make their journey more comfortable. He even offered to let them stay instead of riding off with the dwarves, but Eline knew Talessa had already made up her mind.
Her friend had seemed determined to go to Lothlórien just that morning, and Eline wasn't sure what to make of her sudden change of heart. She was certain it had something to do with their strangely charismatic leader, but she wondered just how much convincing Talessa had needed. If it had been up to Eline, she wouldn't have needed much at all. One of the dwarves—a blonde, handsome one—asking her to please go with them, and she would have folded in seconds.
Now, watching Talessa, she started to notice things she'd been too preoccupied to see before—how Talessa's head subtly turned toward the dwarven king every so often, and how his gaze often wandered back to her in return.
Eline glanced around the room for Fíli and quickly approached him.
"Tell me if I'm imagining things..." she began, "but those two—"
"Act very, very suspicious," Fíli finished, following her gaze to see his uncle and Lady Talessa trying to act as if they weren’t looking at each other.
He raised his eyebrows at Eline, a mischievous smile spreading across his face. "I knew something was up!"
"No, you didn’t," she retorted, swatting playfully at him. "If I hadn't pointed it out, you'd still be clueless."
He put a hand on his heart with a dramatic flair. "You wound me, lady."
Eline just grabbed his arm and started to pull him toward the back door. "Beorn said we can pick some apples for tomorrow. You wouldn't mind helping me, would you?"
Chapter 11: Mirkwood
Notes:
Hey all! I'm sorry for the long delay - my computer broke and I lost all my documents :( Luckily I managed to recover most, but it's all a mess, including this fanfic's new chapters, so it might take a while to get back on track!
Chapter Text
The forest was dark and ominous, beautiful yet dangerous. It felt unnervingly quiet, as though no life existed within it, except for the dwarf company now walking through it. From the moment they stepped onto the path, Talessa had been overwhelmed by a sense of wrongness, as if they truly weren’t supposed to be there. The others seemed more agitated with each step, and she couldn’t tell if it was the strangeness of the ancient woods or the absence of Gandalf, who had always been there to pull them out of trouble.
The wizard had left them to cross Mirkwood alone, mentioning only that he had pressing business in the south. He didn’t elaborate, just warned them to stay on the elven path, the only safe way through the forest. Too many stories spoke of travelers who veered off the trail, only to be lost in the endless woods forever. Talessa hoped they wouldn’t share that fate.
“When are we going to stop?” Eline asked wearily, holding on to Talessa. Both women were exhausted, their steps faltering. It was strange, the tiredness that clung to them. They had only been walking for a few hours—or so it seemed—but it was hard to tell. The scant sunlight barely pierced the thick canopy above, and the shadows never seemed to shift.
“Thorin!” Talessa called out to the dwarf walking several paces ahead. “Can we stop for a bit?”
“Yes, stop,” Bofur chimed in, panting. “I need air!”
“My head,” Oin grumbled, “it’s swimming.”
“Keep moving,” Thorin ordered, not looking back. The dwarves continued to stumble forward, steps unsteady. Fíli caught up, offering Eline a hand.
“We’ll stop soon,” he said gently, though his eyes strayed anxiously to Thorin.
Not long after, Nori called out, “The path—it’s disappeared.” So they had no choice but to stop.
“Find it!” Thorin barked. “All of you, look for the path.”
Talessa watched him cautiously before deciding to sit down on a nearby rock, pulling Eline with her. Thorin glanced at them but said nothing.
Eline collapsed next to her friend, her head spinning. She had never felt so drowsy before and was tempted to lay down on the muddy ground, to just give in and sleep—to forget the cursed forest and the dangers lurking within it. She was about to do just that when someone draped a warm cloak over her and Tessie’s shoulders.
“I’m sorry I can’t offer you more comfort, my ladies,” Fíli apologized. Eline’s heart swelled, and for a moment, she really wanted to kiss him. She didn’t, of course, and the dwarf moved on, still searching for the elusive path.
It was Gloin who eventually found it, but the trail led across a steep river, and the bridge that once spanned it had long since collapsed. They found a narrow spot upstream where some fallen trees formed a precarious crossing.
Gandalf had warned them about the river, telling them never to drink from or bathe in its waters, so they crossed carefully. Talessa and Eline made it across without incident, but the branch beneath Bombur snapped, dropping the dwarf into the river. Kíli and Fíli pulled him out quickly, but Bombur immediately fell into a deep, unnatural sleep. Nothing they did seemed to wake him.
Talessa found it deeply unsettling that a few drops of water could do this, and she kept a closer eye on the group, counting heads as the darkness of the forest thickened around them.
With the last of the sunlight gone, Thorin gave the order to set up camp by the riverside. The women offered to gather twigs for the fire, but Thorin refused to let them leave the camp. Instead, they sat at the base of a tree, watching as the dwarves made preparations for the night.
“I don’t see what you find so interesting about him,” Eline muttered, glancing at Thorin, who was busy giving orders, his voice sharp and impatient.
“What do you mean?” Talessa asked, her tone sheepish. She had known her friend would eventually notice whatever was happening between her and the dwarf king.
“I’m not sure I like him,” Eline admitted. “He’s so strict—and too ambitious. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
Talessa didn’t want to get hurt either. She didn’t know if what had happened at Beorn’s house had meant anything to Thorin. He never brought it up again. She noticed him watching her from time to time, but he never approached. She sighed.
“I know you’ve never been with a man,” Eline continued, bumping her shoulder against Talessa’s. “So just be careful, alright? Don’t let him put a baby in you unless he’s planning to marry you.”
Talessa gasped, staring at her friend incredulously. “I wasn’t—! We didn’t—” she sputtered, her face burning.
Eline laughed at her discomfort.
“You know what, the same goes for you,” Talessa shot back. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed how cozy you’ve been getting with Fíli.”
Eline’s cheeks turned pink, and they both burst into laughter, drawing a few curious glances from the dwarves.
A few moments later, Talessa leaned in, her voice barely above a whisper. “How exactly would I go about it if I didn’t want him to put a baby in me?”
Eline’s eyes lit up as she eagerly began to explain.
✧
By the time the dwarves had lit the fire, night had fallen completely. There was some debate about whether the fire was truly necessary—if it might do more harm than good—but in the end, they decided it was safer to see their surroundings, and the fire would hopefully keep larger beasts away.
After eating a simple dinner, the strange fog clouding their minds eased somewhat, but poor Bombur remained in his deep sleep, impossible to wake. Thorin posted more guards than usual, ensuring the events of the Misty Mountains wouldn’t be repeated. He sat with his back against a thick log, watching his companions huddled around the flames.
If the forest hadn’t been so eerily silent, they might have sung to lift their spirits. Instead, they spoke quietly, exchanging whispered tales and hushed conversation, trying to find some small comfort in each other's company. One by one, they began settling for the night, each finding a spot to curl up under their heavy capes. The dwarves were used to the harshness of the road, sleeping without the luxury of a roof or even the comfort of an inn. The women, however, were not accustomed to such rough conditions, though they haven't complained once.
Thorin's gaze fell on his eldest nephew, Fíli, helping Eline arrange her blanket on the damp ground. He set his own rug beside hers, a silent gesture of protection. A few feet away, Talessa busied herself laying out her quilts on the outskirts of the camp, as she often did—finding solace in isolation, curling up near a tree or a large rock. Thorin typically didn’t mind who chose to sleep where, but now, seeing her so far from the group, something inside him stirred. He didn’t want her in such a vulnerable position, especially not here.
Without a word, Thorin walked over to where she had laid her blankets, picked them up, and moved them closer to the center of camp, next to his own. Dwalin shot him a questioning glance, but Thorin ignored it. His eyes went back to Talessa, standing motionless where she’d been, her arms wrapped around herself, looking more lost than ever since they had entered this cursed forest.
He gestured for her to come closer. She hesitated for only a moment before walking over silently, sitting down on her blanket in front of him. Her gaze lifted to meet his, and Thorin couldn’t help but reach out, his hand brushing gently across her cheek through the thin veil. There was something so captivating about her, something that tugged at him. With a final glance, he stood and joined Kíli and Ori for the first watch.
Kíli, sharp as always, remained alert, but Ori, exhausted beyond measure, dozed off despite his best efforts. Thorin didn’t wake him—his men needed rest, and Kíli’s keen eyes would catch anything out of place. Still, the forest was unnervingly still, with only the soft snores of his company and the quiet rush of the river breaking the silence. The woods were too dark, too quiet—unnaturally so.
Suddenly, a branch snapped in the distance. Thorin saw Kíli tense, hand instinctively reaching for his bow, but Thorin motioned for him to stay. He would investigate the noise himself.
He moved into the shadowy forest, the night growing darker with each step.
Chapter 12: The White Stag
Chapter Text
There was a waterfall, frozen in time, its water turned to glass, but it was bleeding, from the heart. The light blue of the river turned crimson, and she could hear cries of sorrow, mingling with distant cheers of victory. She turned from the bleeding river and faced her own reflection, now standing in a vast chamber, the walls ebony stone. Behind her rose towering piles of gold and jewels, gleaming in the shadows. She was dressed in black, like a widow, her face hidden beneath a veil, a heavy golden crown resting upon her head.
A shadow fell across the treasure, and she spun around, but now she stood in the shallow waters of a lake, surrounded by charred bodies, unrecognizable, while broken wood and carcasses floated aimlessly beside her. She tried to back away, but her foot slipped and she fell backwards, landing on hard ground. When she looked up, a giant spider-like creature hovered above her, its pincers opening, thin legs stretching toward her.
✧
Thorin returned to the camp, finding no sign of danger in the woods. But as he approached, he immediately noticed Kíli wasn't at his post. His heart sank just as Kíli emerged from the trees, his face pale and drawn with worry.
"I'm so sorry, Thorin," the younger dwarf said, his voice frantic. "I don't know how it happened. One moment everything was fine, and the next—she was gone—"
Thorin's blood ran cold. "What do you mean, gone?" he asked, his voice edged with ice.
"Lady Talessa," Kíli stammered, "She got up and walked into the woods... I thought she was just—well, you know—attending to private matters."
Rage surged through Thorin, his hands balling into fists. How could he have let this happen?
"Which way?" he demanded, his voice low and dangerous. Kíli pointed in the direction Talessa had wandered. Thorin didn’t waste a second.
"Do not lose anyone else while I'm gone," he growled, before storming into the forest to find the woman who had wandered off in the dead of night.
✧
He wasn’t even sure what he was looking for—why he had come here. What had he been doing before? His company... or was he alone?
Then he saw it. A stag, its antlers twisting high upon its head, its fur a bright grey, glowing like the moon itself. Thorin instinctively reached for his bow, silently nocking an arrow and taking aim. The stag, as if sensing its doom, lifted its majestic head and looked straight at him. Its eyes were white and empty, and Thorin’s hands trembled in surprise. But he knew he had to hunt it, this strange, otherworldly creature. Perhaps that was why he had come here in the first place.
As he released the arrow, movement flickered in the clearing—a figure, a woman, stepping out in front of the stag, all dressed in white.
Thorin's vision blurred. He lost his balance and reached desperately for a branch to steady himself. A moment later, he regained his senses, just in time to hear the stag galloping away, unharmed. His heart sank as he looked up at the woman, now fully recognizing her.
Talessa.
His relief that the arrow hadn't struck her—embedded instead in a tree just above her head—quickly gave way to anger.
“What in the name of Durin do you think you are doing?” he growled, starting toward her. “Why would you leave the camp without—”
His words faltered. Something was wrong. She wasn’t wearing her veil. And as she turned slowly toward him, Thorin saw her hollow gaze, her eyes unfocused, as if she didn't even notice him.
“A throne of iron and gold,” she said, her voice distant, familiar yet strange. “But what a cost they pay. What a horrible sacrifice.”
Thorin froze. For the first time in a long while, he felt fear—not of her, but for her. She was there in front of him, but it was as if her spirit had drifted far away, out of reach.
“Gold was promised, but they got fire instead,” she continued, her voice trembling. “The blaze so hot, it melts their houses, it melts their skins, and they cry and—"
Suddenly, she screamed, a piercing cry filled with pain, as if she herself were burning.
It jolted Thorin from his daze. He lunged forward, grabbing her shoulders.
“He will be King under the Mountain—Thorin, son of Thráin, son of Thrór,” she said, her eyes still not focusing on him. “He will be king, but they will come to take it away—”
He shook her, trying to pull her back to reality, then, in desperation, pulled her into his arms. He wrapped her close, shutting his eyes in defeat. He had found her, but she seemed to be lost still.
Talessa’s sobs broke through his thoughts, her arms wrapping around him as she buried her face into his neck.
“Thorin,” she whispered, the word both like a question and an answer.
He let her cling to him, gently stroking her hair, his hand tracing the curve of her back. They stood together like that until her cries finally subsided. He led her back towards the others, finding her veil along the way, caught on a branch. She squeezed his hand in silent gratitude when he placed it back on her head.
Back at the camp, Thorin said nothing to the guilty Kíli, too exhausted to address the matter. Some darker force was at work here, and if they didn’t leave this cursed forest soon, Talessa—and Bombur, still unconscious—would not be its last victims.
He told Kíli to change guard with Balin, then led Talessa to their bedrolls. Gently, he pulled her blankets closer to his and sat down, drawing her near. Talessa knelt beside him, still shaky but no longer distant. She curled up at his side, and within moments, she was asleep.
Thorin lay awake for a few minutes longer, his hand brushing the curve of her waist. Then he draped his arm over her, determined that he would not lose her again.
✧
Talessa woke before sunrise but didn’t move. Thorin was still behind her, breathing slowly, his arms wrapped around her, holding her close. She lay there, trying to calm her racing mind. The memories from the night before came flooding back—the horrible visions, the suffocating sense of dread. But were they truly visions, or just nightmares? Disturbing, yes, but harmless... right?
She recalled the giant spider, grotesque and towering, far larger than any creature she had ever seen. She desperately wanted to believe it was just her imagination, but deep inside, a cold unease gnawed at her. It was as if her body was trying to warn her, urging her to listen, to pay attention to the whispers that echoed in her head. They were faint, barely audible, but unmistakable.
Without warning, she jolted upright, startling Thorin awake. His sleepy eyes met hers, and for a brief moment, the sight of him eased her fears. But the whispers returned, soft and foreign, filling her with a growing dread. She reached for his hand, her voice trembling.
“Something terrible is going to happen,” she said, more frantic than she intended. “We have to get out of here, Thorin.”
She could see that he didn’t fully understand, didn’t grasp the urgency. But to her relief, after a brief pause, he nodded.
“We are leaving,” he said, his voice steady and reassuring. Then, without wasting time, he rose to wake the rest of the company and ready them to move on.
✧
“I have an idea,” Bilbo said, sounding hopeful, as they found themselves standing by the same fallen oak with the familiar large rock beneath it—for the third time.
They had lost the path, and though none of them could pinpoint exactly when, they all knew it. Since then, they had been wandering in circles, growing more frustrated with each passing hour.
“We need to find the sun,” the hobbit continued. “We need to look above the canopy!”
His words, however, went largely ignored. The dwarves, grumbling and arguing among themselves, were too caught up in their own frustrations. Only Talessa noticed, her eyes locking on Bilbo as he started climbing one of the towering trees with surprising agility.
Suddenly, a chill coursed through her, and at the same moment, Thorin's voice cut through the company’s bickering.
“Silence!” he ordered, his tone heavy with foreboding. “They are watching us.”
Chapter 13: The King of the Forest
Chapter Text
As Bilbo climbed higher, the oppressive fog clouding his mind seemed to lift, replaced by the clarity of fresh air and golden light. His thoughts became sharper, lighter, as if the strange poison of the forest was left behind in the shadows below. Higher and higher he went, the branches thinning as he approached the forest's crown, until finally, he broke through the russet leaves and gasped at the sight before him.
The Lonely Mountain stood proudly in the distance, its snowy peak gleaming under the sun. A beacon of hope, it towered over the vast stretch of wilderness. Below, a long, narrow lake shimmered, and Bilbo traced the flow of a river winding towards it—surely the same one they had camped beside the previous night. If they followed the river, they might escape this cursed forest before nightfall. His heart swelled with excitement.
"I see the Lonely Mountain!" he called down to his companions, his voice carrying on the breeze. "I've found the way!"
For the first time in what felt like ages, hope surged through him. Their journey would continue. Unfortunately, his excitement was short-lived.
Silence greeted him from below. No cheers, no responses—only an eerie stillness. A cold dread crept into Bilbo's mind as he began his descent. Had they left him behind? No, Thorin wouldn't abandon him, nor would the women allow such a thing. He clung to that reassurance, but doubt gnawed at him all the same.
As he hurried downward, something caught his eye. The branches around him were laced with thick strands of white silk—spider webs, far larger than any he had ever seen. How had he not noticed them before? He slowed, heart pounding, when suddenly there was movement. From the corner of his eye, he saw it—a spider, grotesque and enormous, easily twice his size, lurking just inches away.
Before he could react, Bilbo lost his footing. He tumbled, crashing through the branches, only to land on a sticky web. He struggled to free himself, but the more he moved, the tighter the web's embrace. Above him, the spider descended, moving quickly to ensnare him in layers of silk. In mere moments, he was wrapped tightly in a cocoon, barely able to move.
His vision blurred, but he could still make out vague shapes around him. More spiders, swarming through the trees. In the distance, he saw his companions—dwarves, all of them, trapped in webs just like his. His heart raced, but then his hand brushed against something hard at his thigh. His sword! His wonderful little blade, forgotten in his panic, was still with him. With quick, deliberate movements, he slashed through the web and drove the blade into the spider's soft belly as it scuttled by.
Without hesitation, he reached for the simple gold ring in his pocket—the magic ring he had taken from the creature Gollum deep in the Goblin tunnels. Slipping it onto his finger, Bilbo vanished from sight. Invisible, he moved quietly through the trees, determined to free his friends from the spiders' clutches, the ring's strange power keeping him hidden from the many eyes that watched.
✧
"What a nightmare," whimpered Eline, clutching Talessa tightly. "Tessie, please tell me I'm dreaming, that I'll wake up soon and realize this is all just my imagination."
Talessa couldn't tell her that. The events unfolding around them were all too real.
It had happened so quickly. One moment, they were listening to the dwarves bicker, and the next, they were ambushed by enormous spiders—just like the one from her vision the night before. She might have dismissed it as her imagination, but the startled shouts of the dwarves and the eerie whispers of the creatures were far too real. Then the very spider she had seen in her vision lunged at her, wrapping her in its web.
Suspended in the web, Talessa had too much time to think, to gather her frantic thoughts. Had she predicted this? Last night, she had thought it was just a dream, a trick of her mind. But now she recalled their crossing of the Misty Mountains weeks earlier, and a flash of a vision about a storm and falling rocks. Those events had come true, just like this.
She'd heard that some elves had magical abilities, but she had always assumed she hadn't inherited any. Oracles, future-seers—those were the stuff of children's stories. Yet, now she wondered. Was she truly seeing the future, or was she slowly losing her mind?
Before she could think any further, Bilbo appeared out of nowhere, cutting each of them free from their webs. Talessa and Eline quickly hid behind a cluster of rocks, watching as the dwarves took up arms against the vile creatures. It was clear they were outnumbered, exhaustion weighing heavily on them as the battle dragged on.
Then, a battle cry rang out from the trees. The spiders began to fall, slain by the swift blades of unknown warriors. Talessa's breath caught as she saw their rescuers—elves, though not like Elrond's kin. These elves wore simple garb in the colors of the forest, their weapons elegant and masterfully crafted. They must be the Elves of the Woodland Realm, living deep within Mirkwood. The spiders were quickly dispatched by their precise, efficient movements.
But the elves didn't stop there. They surrounded the dwarves, weapons drawn, and an elf roughly pushed Talessa and Eline into the center of the circle. Balin, standing nearby, quickly ushered them into the protection of the group, his weapon lifted defensively.
"Do not think I won't kill you, Dwarf," sneered a blonde-haired elf, bow aimed directly at Thorin. "It would be my pleasure." His leathers were finer than the others, decorated in the shades of the woods, and Talessa assumed he held some higher rank.
Thorin lowered his sword slowly, reluctantly, and the rest of the dwarves followed suit.
"Search them!" the elven leader commanded. The sneering dwarves were swiftly stripped of their weapons.
The elf examined Thorin's sword and, recognizing its elven make, accused him of theft.
"He didn't steal it. It was a gift," Talessa said, stepping up beside Thorin, her chin raised defiantly as she faced the haughty elf. The elf gave her a curious look, but before he could respond, Thorin quickly pushed her behind him, shielding her from the elf's reach.
The dwarves, along with Talessa and Eline, were led away by their new captors. They passed through a massive door set into the side of a rock, entering an elaborate underground fortress. Though carved from earth and roots, the halls were grand, their tall pillars and ornate carvings illuminated by soft light that filtered through openings in the ceiling high above.
Talessa's thoughts turned to Bilbo, who she noticed was missing from the group. She caught Thorin's eye, mouthing the hobbit's name, but Thorin shook his head subtly. She hoped Bilbo had managed to hide, and that he was safer where he was, far away from their captors.
✧
Talessa, Eline, and Thorin had been separated from the rest of the group and led to a grand chamber. In the center stood a rounded dais supported by twisted roots, with an intricate throne carved from the same wood. Seated upon it was the Elvenking, a figure of undeniable authority. His coat was embroidered with delicate autumn leaves, and his fair hair was crowned with a wreath of twigs, leaves, and winterberries. His piercing gaze fell upon Thorin as he spoke, his voice measured but sharp.
"Some may imagine that a noble quest is at hand," the Elvenking said, his eyes briefly sweeping over Talessa and Eline before focusing on Thorin again. "A quest to reclaim a homeland... and to slay a dragon."
He paused, his lips curling into a slight smile as he continued, "But I myself suspect a more prosaic motive. Attempted burglary, perhaps? You have found a way in..." He leaned close to Thorin, his voice a whisper laced with amusement. "You seek the King's Jewel. The Arkenstone. The one that would bestow upon you the right to rule. It is precious to you beyond measure. I understand that."
The Elvenking smiled then, a wicked grin that lacked the warmth and courtesy Talessa had known from the elves in Rivendell. These elves were not like Elrond's kin—there was something colder, more dangerous about them.
"I offer you my help," the Elvenking said, walking leisurely back to his throne.
"I'm listening," Thorin replied, his voice filled with contempt.
"I will let you go if you return what is mine. I believe you know the gems of which I speak."
Talessa watched the exchange intently, her mind buzzing with the words. When she closed her eyes for a brief moment, she saw a vision—a box of white gems, radiant as if made of starlight. In her vision, she held the box in her hands, extending it to someone. She opened her eyes, her heart racing, wondering if those were the very gems the Elvenking sought.
"A favor for a favor," Thorin scoffed, raising an eyebrow with disdain. Talessa could sense the tension in him, the deep-rooted resentment. She knew he would never agree. Whatever had transpired between the dwarves and these elves, it was a wound that festered in Thorin's heart, his dwarven pride refusing to forget.
"I would not trust Thranduil, the so-called great king," Thorin spat bitterly, his anger rising. "I would not trust him to honor his words."
Thranduil's face remained impassive, but his eyes glinted dangerously.
"You—" Thorin growled, pointing at the Elvenking with fury. "You lack all honor! We came to you once, starving and homeless, asking for help. But you turned your back! You turned away from the suffering of my people, the inferno that destroyed us—"
"Do not speak to me of dragon fire," Thranduil interrupted, his voice chilling the air. "I know its wrath and ruin all too well."
Talessa instinctively grabbed Eline's hand, and they backed away toward the wooden railing, seeking distance from the storm brewing between the two rulers.
"I have faced the great serpents of the North!" Thranduil hissed. "I warned your grandfather of the doom his greed would summon, but he would not listen. You are just like him," he spat, walking back to his throne. With a flick of his hand, he motioned for his guards. They seized Thorin, dragging him away.
"Stay here if you will, and rot," the Elvenking said coldly, dismissing Thorin. "A hundred years is but a blink in the life of an elf."
He sat back on his throne, his face as expressionless as stone.
"That went well," Eline whispered sarcastically as they watched Thorin being led away by the elven guards.
Talessa made a quick decision. She pulled her veil back, revealing her face and the long, pointed ears that marked her elven heritage. With steady steps, she walked to the center of the dais, her heart pounding but her head held high.
"My name is Talessa Quinmaer. I come from the Kingdom of Rohan," she introduced herself, bowing gracefully.
Thranduil's eyes narrowed, his gaze lingering on her pointed ears. "And yet you carry the features of an elf."
"From my mother's side," Talessa replied calmly.
"And why does a half-elf and her human companion," he gestured towards Eline, "travel with a group of dwarves?"
"It is a long story," Talessa responded, her voice steady despite the tension in the room.
Thranduil tipped his head slightly, his expression one of curiosity. "I would like to hear it," he said after a pause. "I invite you to be my guests. Tomorrow, we feast for Mereth-en-Gilith, a celebration of the mighty stars. I will listen to your tale then."
Talessa nodded, understanding the weight of the offer. Tomorrow, they would have to be careful with every word they spoke in the presence of this powerful king.
✧
Talessa and Eline had been placed in a spacious chamber with high ceilings and intricately carved furniture made of wood and stone. The craftsmanship was beautiful, but Talessa wasn't deceived by the luxury. She knew all too well that, despite the elegance, they were prisoners just like the dwarves—only their cell was gilded, designed to lull them into compliance. The two elven guards stationed outside their door confirmed her suspicions, and she doubted they would be allowed to leave before tomorrow's feast.
The two women explored the chamber in silence until a knock came at the door.
"My name is Tauriel," said an elf as she entered the room. She was stunning—sharp, defined features with hair like autumn leaves cascading over her shoulders. Her attire, however, was that of a warrior, and Talessa quickly recognized her as one of the elves involved in their capture.
"My king asked me to see to your needs... so I brought you some new clothes," Tauriel added with a small, polite smile as she set a pile of neatly folded garments on the table.
"Thank you," Talessa replied, her voice even.
"You don't look like someone who should be tasked with looking after us," Eline remarked, eyeing Tauriel with a thoughtful expression.
The elf arched an eyebrow. "And what do I look like?"
"A fighter," Eline said without hesitation. "I saw you in the forest. You were the one who stopped Kíli from being eaten by one of those spiders."
"So, his name is Kíli?" Tauriel echoed softly, a fleeting hint of curiosity, or perhaps something more, playing across her face. Talessa noticed the subtle shift in her demeanor, as if the elf was caught off guard by the mention of the dwarf's name.
As Talessa reached out to take the clothes, her vision suddenly blurred. An image flashed before her eyes—Tauriel standing over a wounded, whimpering Kíli, whispering a chant in Elvish. The vision was fleeting, but vivid, and it vanished as quickly as it came.
Eline gave her a questioning look, sensing that something had shifted, but Talessa shook her head, dismissing it for now. Tauriel seemed oblivious to the vision that had just taken hold of Talessa. She lingered for a moment longer, as if there were more she wished to say or ask, but instead, she simply nodded and left the room with a quiet, "Goodbye."
As the door closed, Talessa let out a slow breath, her mind racing with the vision she had just seen and the implications it might hold for both them and the dwarves.
✧
Thorin stood at the iron bars of his cell, watching as Kíli exchanged words with the auburn-haired elven woman. Her laughter echoed softly through the corridor, and Thorin shook his head in frustration. He had seen the way Kíli looked at her and couldn't understand how his nephew could lower his guard so easily in the presence of their captors. His heart hardened as he turned away, staring into the dark corner of his prison, where his thoughts festered like a slow burn.
He knew he'd made a mistake—not in refusing Thranduil's offer, for the elf king was a traitor in his eyes—but in how brashly he had done it. He had allowed his pride to cloud his judgment, not once thinking of what would happen to Talessa and Eline if they were left alone in the elves' custody. His gut twisted at the thought of them in danger. He cursed his own stubbornness and swore that if anything befell them, he would see to it that Thranduil paid for it—after he claimed his rightful crown and reunited the dwarves of Middle-Earth.
The realization struck him: he had never cared for a woman as much as he did for Talessa. Her grace, her quiet strength, and the way she carried herself with dignity amidst peril stirred something in him. And in extension, Eline too, the ever-loyal companion. They had become his responsibility, not just because of the journey, but because they had found a place in his heart, a place he'd never expected to make room for. The only woman who had ever held that spot was his sister Dís, but she was safe in the Blue Mountains, far from the dangers of this quest.
He clenched his fists, his frustration simmering. They were so close—Erebor was just a few days away. He had full faith that Bilbo, with his stealth and cunning, was somewhere nearby, waiting for the right moment to free them. But what then? How could he possibly bring Talessa and Eline with them to the Mountain? There was a dragon to contend with, and if their plan went awry, it would be a fight to the death.
Thorin exhaled sharply, shaking his head. Durin's beard, he thought, exasperated. He would find a way. If they were fortunate, Gandalf would return before they reached Erebor, and he could leave the women in the wizard's care. But if not—well, Durin help them all. He couldn't leave Talessa and Eline behind, especially not with these unpredictable, wild elves. He would protect them, whatever it cost.
Chapter 14: A Narrow Escape
Chapter Text
They had to leave the women—Thorin thought desperately, standing in front of the barrels Bilbo was urging the company to climb into.
"I'm so sorry, Thorin," the hobbit pleaded. "I didn’t realize they were held elsewhere. If I had known, I would have freed them first."
Bilbo had used his magic ring to sneak into the elven fortress unnoticed, managing to steal the guard's keys. He had quickly freed the captive dwarves, but time was running out now. There was a river flowing beneath the wine cellars, where the elves discarded their empty barrels, and Bilbo’s plan was to escape through that. Any minute now, the guards would realize their prisoners were gone.
"We need to leave," he urged, his voice desperate. "I’ll come back for the women myself, but if we don’t go now, we’ll be stuck here forever. Please, just climb into the barrels."
Thorin closed his eyes for a moment, grappling with the decision, then nodded.
"Do as he says," he commanded, his voice solemn, and the dwarves obeyed.
Bilbo ran to open the latch on the floor, and once the barrels hit the water below, he quickly jumped through the hole before it sealed shut.
✧
Eline and Talessa were just finishing their breakfast, discussing what they should and shouldn’t tell the elves, when their door suddenly flew open and Thranduil stormed in.
"How did they get away?" he demanded, his voice sharp with fury.
Talessa froze in her movement.
"They’re gone?" she asked, her surprise evident. The Elvenking’s gaze slowly shifted to her. The two women's shocked expressions confirmed to him that they hadn’t known about the dwarves' early morning escape.
"Father," came a voice from the doorframe. The blonde elf who had led their capture the previous day entered, and Talessa now saw the resemblance. She should have guessed they were kin.
"Legolas," Thranduil acknowledged him with a questioning nod.
"They’ve been ambushed by orcs," Legolas reported. "We captured one for questioning."
"Did they manage to escape?" Eline asked anxiously, cutting in. Legolas shot her an annoyed look but gave a curt nod.
"All the dwarves got away, though one of the younger ones was injured."
Eline's heart twisted in fear, worried he might be talking about Fíli, who she had grown far too fond of in these past few weeks.
"It’s Kíli," said Tauriel, stepping into view behind Legolas. Thranduil cast a disapproving glance in her direction. Eline felt only a little relief, knowing how close Kíli and Fíli were and imagining the pain Fíli must feel over his brother's injury.
"To the throne room," Thranduil commanded, and motioned for the two women to follow.
✧
The orc’s body still twitched, though its head lay severed from the rest. Talessa watched in silence, her disgust mingling with pity. These creatures, born and conditioned to serve evil, were never given a choice.
What they had just learned from him was devastating. The orc spoke of a Ruler, the "One" who would soon set the world aflame. Talessa glanced at Thranduil, whose face had gone blank, his emotions concealed as thoroughly as his gates surely would soon be locked. Behind her, Eline sobbed quietly. The orc had also revealed that the arrow Kíli had been shot with was poisoned. The dwarf would die within days if the wound remained untreated.
A chill crept over Talessa’s body. She looked from the Elvenking, who stood with his back to them, to Legolas, who was about to leave the room. Her mind flashed to the vivid dream she had the night before. She had never had such clear and realistic dreams since childhood, when she would sometimes see her parents' figures after their deaths. Once those dreams ceased, no others like them had followed—until last night. In the dream, she had seen a breathtakingly beautiful elven woman, her hair as white as the moon, adorned with gems that glowed brighter than the stars. The same gems Talessa had glimpsed in her vision when she first met Thranduil. The woman had laughed sweetly, calling out Legolas' name, and Talessa could have sworn she heard Thranduil’s voice in the background, whispering "my love".
She knew now they had to leave—and quickly. Deciding to take a great risk, she spoke up.
“The gems you seek…” she began, and Thranduil turned to face her. “They belonged to your wife. They are the only things left of her. That is why you want them so much.”
"How do you know that?" Thranduil’s expression shifted, but to Talessa’s relief, he wasn’t angry—only puzzled. "She has been dead for hundreds of years. You are too young to have known her."
"I didn’t know her," Talessa confirmed. "But I’ve seen her, in my dreams."
Her expression grew solemn. She had only recently discovered her abilities, but already, she knew they were a heavy burden to bear. Seeing the future—and even the past, long before she had been born—was a terrible responsibility.
“I know the only way you’ll get those gems back is if you let us go now,” she added, uncovering her face. Her pale eyes met Thranduil’s stormy gaze.
“You are kin of mine, though distantly,” he said after a long silence. “But you sully yourself with the business of dwarves. I do not know if I should trust you.”
Talessa stepped closer, looking up at the tall elf. His face, for the first time, seemed honest, almost vulnerable. She knew elves chose their mates for life, and beneath his cold exterior, she could see the lingering grief for his lost love.
“We are kin, Elvenking, and I understand our ways. That is why I promise you—I will return your wife’s precious gems.”
Thranduil studied her, his gaze searching her face. “You surprise me, Dilthen Rís. But let it be so. I shall let you leave at once.”
✧
"Why didn’t you tell me?" Eline asked as they walked along the path. "I knew something was up, but I just assumed it had to do with Thorin. Are you saying you can see the future now?"
They had been shown a shortcut to the nearest settlement, Laketown, where Thranduil assumed the dwarves had headed. It was almost a full day’s walk, and they were set to arrive just before sunset.
Talessa mulled over how best to answer her friend's question.
“I can see bits and pieces of the future,” she replied. “It’s not always clear. I’m not even sure what it all means. At first, I thought I was just finally going completely mad.”
Eline shook her head worriedly.
“I wish we could have reached Galadriel. I’m sure she would have had some answers for you,” she sighed. After a pause, she added, “Did you see anything about my future?”
“I didn’t. And even if I had—would you really want to know?”
Eline shook her head, a rueful smile tugging at her lips.
“You’re right. Don’t tell me unless it’s all happy things.”
As the hours passed, Talessa remained preoccupied with the Elvenking’s last words. He had called her Dilthen Rís, which in Sindarin meant "Little Queen." Maybe the elf had grown sentimental, or, thinking back to her vision of herself wearing a crown, perhaps he knew more than he let on. But there was no point in dwelling on it now. They needed to focus on the road ahead. She knew orcs might still be lurking, but she hoped they were too fixated on their bounty to bother with others.
✧
Thorin and his company had barely escaped with their lives. Getting out of the elves' fortress had been easy enough—Bilbo, brilliant as ever, even managed to swipe some of their weapons. But then the orc ambush took them by surprise, exposing them on the river. Their survival had been pure luck (and the help of two elves, though Thorin didn’t want to dwell on that).
Now they were drifting down the Long Lake in a boat owned by Bard, a bargeman from Esgaroth. He had promised them safe entry into the town, and they had used up their last coins to pay him. Thorin wasn’t too concerned, though. Once they crossed the lake, it would only take a day's walk to reach the mountain—the hidden entrance they were aiming for. The door, only visible on Durin’s Day, would appear in two nights, when the last moon of autumn and the first sun of winter shared the sky. They had enough time; they would make it.
Bilbo would sneak in and steal the Arkenstone, granting Thorin the right to rule. Afterward, he would summon his cousin Dáin, and together they would take up arms against the dragon. Erebor would be theirs again. And then, Thorin would go and find Talessa...
His thoughts were interrupted by Bard's gruff voice, telling them to hide in the barrels. Thorin grunted in frustration. It seemed they couldn’t escape those cursed casks.
✧
Nídhiel listened intently as the old servant recounted her tale to Elrond. Talessa and Eline’s former companion, Bertra, had unexpectedly arrived in Rivendell the previous night. It was a great surprise, as she should have been safely home by now, along with the two women. Instead, Bertra brought terrible news.
Nídhiel glanced at Elrond as he listened to the old woman. Bertra told them that when she returned to Quinmaer Manor, she found it burned to the ground, leaving only the skeletal remains of stone walls. The servants who had been present claimed there was no foul play—the fire had started from a faulty chimney, and they had been too late to extinguish it. While there were no casualties, the loss was severe and devastating.
Bertra had stayed in the stables for several weeks, where the surviving servants, those who hadn’t quit after the fire, had built a small shelter. But she grew anxious when her mistress hadn’t returned by the time she was expected. So, she packed what little had survived the fire and set off for Rivendell, seeking Elrond’s help. She had no one else—her husband had passed many years ago, and she had never been blessed with children. The closest thing to family she had were Lady Talessa and sweet Eline, and so she would find them, no matter where they were.
Elrond had contacted Lady Galadriel as soon as Bertra arrived, but the Elven queen had not heard any news of Talessa or Eline, which caused them all a great deal of worry.
“I will try to take a glimpse into distant lands, to see if anyone has seen or heard of them,” Elrond declared. Nídhiel almost forgot that the lord of Rivendell possessed the gift of foresight. Many elves had this gift, though it was rarer now than in the past, and few wielded it with great power.
Nídhiel watched as Elrond’s gaze became distant, his brow furrowing with concern. After a long silence, he spoke. “I see your friends, Bertra,” he said softly. “Their fates have led them astray from their intended path, and they face great challenges yet. It appears they are heading toward the once-great kingdom of Erebor. That is where you will find them, should you wish to seek them out.”
“How did they end up all the way there?” Nídhiel exclaimed, shocked. Meanwhile, Bertra expressed her deep gratitude to the Elven lord.
“That, I do not know,” Elrond replied. “But if you wish, Nídhiel, you may accompany Bertra on her journey. You’ll have the chance to see your friends again and ask them yourself.”
And so, Nídhiel and Bertra embarked on a new journey, setting out for the Lonely Mountain, hoping to reunite with Talessa and Eline amidst the shadow of Erebor.
Chapter 15: Laketown
Chapter Text
After arriving in Esgaroth, Thorin and his company quickly realized they were not welcome. The bargeman, Bard, hid them in his home, making them promise not to reveal themselves to any of the townsfolk. Thorin bargained for more weapons, and Bard left to procure them from Durin-knows-where. His older daughter served the dwarves tea made from nettle leaves, while his younger daughter and son pestered the company with questions they had no business asking.
Thorin stood by the window, staring at the Lonely Mountain, its tall form looming on the horizon, almost close enough to cast its shadow over the town. His gaze lingered on a Dwarvish windlance perched atop a rickety tower. He remembered the last time he had seen one—in Dale, the once-bustling and prosperous city by the mountain’s foot. He had still been considered a young dwarf when Smaug came, but the image of the burning town and the screaming people lived vividly in his memory. The former lord of Dale, Girion, had fired two black arrows from a windlance, but they failed to slay the dragon. Dale and Erebor had fallen, and the memory of that day still haunted Thorin.
Bard returned about an hour later with a sack full of rusty old blades, patched-up axes, and some barely functional lances.
"What is this?" Thorin demanded, his anger rising as he grabbed a fish-pike-looking stick from the pile. The other dwarves looked at the weapons, incredulous.
"We paid you for weapons!" Gloin snapped indignantly.
"This is a joke!" Bofur yelled, tossing the axe he had picked back onto the table.
Bard shrugged, clearly unimpressed by their outrage. He told them it was all he could gather and that they wouldn’t find anything better unless they raided the city armory. The dwarves huffed and grumbled, their frustration palpable.
"Thorin, let’s take them and go," Balin urged, trying to ease the tension. "We’ve made do with less, and we still have some of our swords."
"You can’t leave the city before nightfall, or you’ll be captured," Bard interjected, prompting another round of protests from the company.
✧
The sun was sinking steadily as Talessa and Eline reached the ferryboat. They had been fortunate, encountering no other living souls on their long walk, though both were acutely aware that the orcs could not be far behind. Talessa paid the old ferryman the fee for the crossing and the hefty entrance tax. They told him they were visiting distant relatives, but the man barely seemed to care.
As he rowed across the smooth, dark lake, Talessa leaned over the side, staring into the water. Suddenly, the lake lit up, the surface turning orange-red, as though it were blazing hot fire. Screams of pain and fear pierced the air, echoing through the night. She gasped as she saw something moving beneath the water, which now shimmered more gold than yellow—a massive winged beast, its shape monstrous and terrible.
"A prophecy," a man's unfamiliar voice rose above the chaos of the screams, but Talessa could see only the dragon. "The lord of silver fountains, the king of carven stone, the king beneath the mountain, shall come into his own. And the bells shall ring in gladness at the mountain king's return, but all shall fail in sadness, and the lake will shine and burn."
Her vision shifted. She saw a tower, a great crossbow atop it, and a man releasing an arrow, his face pained and sorrowful, before the tower was engulfed in flames. Then, the scene changed again. She saw Thorin and his thirteen companions standing on an overlook before a massive, metal-forged gate. Their faces were dirtied with soot and sweat, but they smiled, victorious.
Talessa gasped and came back to her senses, the vision dissolving like mist.
"What happened?" Eline asked worriedly, glancing toward the ferryman, who remained oblivious, focused on his rowing.
"I had another vision," Talessa whispered shakily, gripping the side of the boat. She thought of her earlier vision in the forest, of the burned bodies in the water, and her stomach churned with unease. As she looked toward the approaching town of Esgaroth, its rugged structures built entirely of wood, dread settled heavily in her chest. She had an idea of what was coming, but no sense of when—or how to stop it.
When they reached the docks, a disruption was evident. Townsfolk were gathering in what appeared to be the central square, their attention fixed on a commotion in front of a large, imposing mansion.
Talessa and Eline cautiously approached the crowd, weaving their way through to get a better view.
"It's them!" Eline gasped, standing on her tiptoes to see over the heads of the gathered men and women.
A woman shifted in front of them, giving Talessa a clear view. Now she saw the dwarves standing together in the square, Thorin at the front, speaking with a man on the mansion steps.
Suddenly, the crowd erupted into cheers, and the dwarves were ushered inside the grand building.
Talessa noticed a figure turning away from the commotion, slipping out of the crowd with quick steps. She froze as recognition struck—he was the man from her vision, the one with the crossbow. He disappeared into the maze of wooden streets before she could say or do anything, and she stared after him, unease building in her chest.
"Tessie, let's go meet them!" Eline's excited voice broke through her thoughts.
Talessa nodded, pushing her worries aside for now, and followed her friend as they made their way through the crowd.
✧
Thorin could barely believe his eyes as the two women walked into the mayor's house. The old geezer was barking orders at his servants to prepare a feast in the square and had even invited the company to stay in his mansion for the night. Though Thorin didn’t trust the man’s greedy eyes or sly demeanor, he accepted the offer—they needed all the help they could muster before continuing their quest.
The room erupted in joyful laughter and cheers as the women entered. Eline recounted how Talessa had negotiated their release with Thranduil, though she tactfully avoided revealing the exact cost of their freedom.
Thorin remained rooted in place, watching from a distance. He didn’t approach them. A pang of guilt gnawed at him for leaving them behind. The right words to say escaped him—especially to Talessa, whose veiled head was now turned in his direction. Thorin inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment, but then turned away, his heart heavy and thoughts conflicted.
✧
Talessa was standing by the window in her shared room with Eline, looking outside at the revelry. She saw her friend dancing with Fíli and smiled at their apparent joy. For what was probably one last night, they would all be carefree and happy.
She noticed the mayor sitting on his gilded chair on the podium, stuffing his face with a huge serving of roast piglet. Of course, he didn't bother to share the plenty of food he had prepared with any of the townsfolk, except for the dwarves who promised him more riches. She saw Thorin standing by a pillar, also watching the greedy man and shaking his head in disgust. After a few minutes, he said goodbye to his men and walked inside the building.
She had not had a chance to talk to him since they arrived, and she was worried he might be avoiding her. But her visions troubled her, and she decided she needed to tell him—if not everything, then at least something to prepare him for what was to come.
She stepped away from the window and walked to the dusty vanity. Pulling off her worn veil, she looked at herself in the mirror. It had been so long since she had properly seen her own reflection, with nothing to cover her face. She wondered if this was what her mother looked like or if she had inherited some of her father’s features. She brushed her hand over her lips, remembering the dwarven king’s mouth on hers in Beorn's garden. Tomorrow, he would depart, and while Talessa knew she would see him again soon, she still felt a strong need to go to him, to stay with him while she could.
She stripped out of her dusty travel clothes and rummaged through the wardrobe in their room. It had belonged to a woman at one point, but it had clearly been abandoned for a while. Did the mayor once have a wife? Had she managed to escape, or was she another victim of this wretched town's misery? Some of the dresses were damaged beyond saving, eaten away by moths, but she found a light blue nightgown tucked into the corner that seemed to have withstood the passage of time. It was almost fully transparent, its hems decorated with delicate lace flowers, and it came with a silken robe that she could put over it.
Talessa tried it on. It was a bit long, and she had to lift the front to walk comfortably, but it would suffice. She walked to the door, reaching for her veil on the desk, but then she stopped herself. The room she was going to was only a few doors down–she wouldn’t need it. Taking a deep breath, she stepped out and headed for Thorin's chamber.
✧
He stood in the middle of the room, his thoughts heavy with a mix of worry and hope about tomorrow, when he heard the door creak open. Turning to look, he found himself face to face with a vision—a phantom come to haunt him. She wasn’t wearing her veil, instead, her face was bright and open, her eyelids hanging low. Moonlight hair framed her features like a crown, and her lips were pink and plump, as if waiting to be kissed.
Bewitched, he watched as she loosened the belt of her robe, letting it slip off her shoulders to reveal a thin slip of a nightgown beneath. He reached out his hand, beckoning her closer, and felt a surge of pleasure when she stepped straight into his arms. Cupping her face in his hands, he pulled her close for a kiss.
✧
Talessa sat beside the brass tub as Thorin bathed. He didn't say much, but the expression he kept gazing at her with told her many promises. He washed quickly, and when he stepped out, Talessa took a towel and moved to dry him off. He didn’t let her finish, instead, he grasped her waist and backed her up until her legs touched the side of the bed. Her heartbeat quickened as he reached for the ribbon of her gown, pulling it loose and letting it fall to the floor. He stepped back, his intense scrutiny making her quiver.
"You are the most magnificent being I have ever seen," he breathed, admiring her naked form. He closed the distance between them until their mouths met again. He held her tightly, his strong arms gripping her bottom as she pressed closer, spreading her legs slightly and grinding her hips against him to ease the ache building within her. Thorin lifted her effortlessly and laid her down on the bed, the worn mattress creaking beneath them. Kneeling above her, his eyes were lost in hers. She reached out and pulled him down, inviting his kisses to trail from her neck all the way down to the spot between her legs.
Her hips buckled as he began to lick at her moist opening, and he held her legs steady. Her head fell back as she moaned his name in a voice she barely even recognized. She was panting by the time he pulled back up to kiss her again, his mouth glistening with her essence.
He ground his hips against hers, his length brushing tantalisingly against her. She reached down, eager to touch him, and he let out a deep, animal growl when her hands wrapped around his shaft. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand away, burying his face in her shoulder for a moment as his chest shook with restrained desire.
"If you do that, I will finish much sooner than I planned," he said, his voice strained. Talessa responded with a sheepish smile, lifting her hip and pushing it into him.
He looked at her with a sudden concern on his face. "Talessa... my beautiful lady. If we do this, you must understand that you will be mine." His hands brushed loose strands of hair from her face. "If you give yourself to me, I will never be able to let you go."
Talessa took his hand and brought it to her lips, placing a soft kiss on his bruised knuckles. "I will be yours," she agreed, meaning every word with all her heart. Every part of her whispered that her future lay with the dwarven king and his companions, and she felt deeply content with that fate.
He sighed and kissed her again before positioning himself between her legs. With one swift movement, he slipped inside her. A brief sting of pain shot through her but quickly faded into a new kind of pleasure that spread throughout her body. The ache within subsided, replaced by pure bliss as Thorin began to move inside her—first slowly, then faster and more frantic—until she closed her eyes, lost in ecstasy.
Chapter 16: The Prophecy
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
"We are leaving at dawn. You and Eline will stay behind with Kíli," Thorin said, his voice firm but gentle as he stroked her hair. Talessa rested her head on his bare chest, her hands splayed against his warm skin, feeling the strong, steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
She struggled with what to say. Should she tell him about her visions? Should she even trust them herself? The images of fire and the echoes of terrified screams haunted her, but so did the radiant throne—a beacon of gold and jewels, shining as if it held all the light of the sun. She knew there was nothing she could say to stop him now, not when he was so close to reclaiming his home. A single tear slipped down her cheek, and Thorin wiped it away with a tender touch.
"There is no need for tears," he said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Soon, I will be showing you around our home. Erebor is the most magnificent underground kingdom you will ever see."
Talessa smiled, a sad, wistful curve of her lips. She thought of the vast halls and towering stone pillars, as tall as the mountain itself, that she had already glimpsed in her dreams.
✧
After the company left, the townsfolk returned to their daily routines. Talessa and Eline, along with Fíli, Oin, and the unfortunate Bofur—who had woken up too late and missed the boat—stayed behind with the injured Kíli. His condition seemed to worsen by the hour, his groans of pain filling the small room. The mayor had promptly kicked them out of his mansion as soon as Thorin's boat disappeared from sight. With nowhere else to go, they begged Bard to take them in, knowing Kíli's state wouldn't allow him to travel further.
Now, the young dwarf lay feverish on a table, his skin damp and hot to the touch. Oin had sent Bofur to search for kingsfoil, a herb that might help, while Eline and Bard's two daughters tried to ease Kíli's fever with cold compresses and what few herbs they had. Still, nothing seemed to work.
Talessa stood by the window, staring out at the setting sun. Her thoughts drifted to the fleeting vision she'd had of Tauriel. That elf was supposed to save Kíli—but where was she now? She turned back to glance at the suffering dwarf, then gazed sorrowfully out at the bustling townsfolk below, all of them going about their lives with renewed hope for riches. Thorin and his company had likely already reached the mountain. She wondered how much time this town had left, and how great the cost would be when the dragon awoke.
Bard suddenly burst into the room, his expression stormy as he looked over the gathering. His sharp eyes fixed on Talessa.
"You knew!" he accused, his voice tight with anger. Though her veil concealed her face, Talessa felt as if he could see the guilt written across it. She straightened her posture, meeting his glare. She knew what he meant—Bard of Esgaroth was a perceptive man, and he must have pieced together the truth of the dreaded prophecy.
"It has been foretold for ages," Talessa said defensively, though her voice wavered with guilt. "It is meant to happen this way."
Bard scoffed, his expression incredulous. "Yet they left you behind. What kind of leader is Thorin, to abandon his people to burn and die?"
"Tessie, what is he talking about?" Eline interjected, but Talessa didn't answer. Instead, she stepped closer to Bard.
"Thorin didn't know," she admitted quietly. "But even if he did, it wouldn't have changed much. This is his destiny."
"And what of us?" Bard demanded. "What of the people here?"
Talessa hesitated, guilt clawing at her. "We can still help. We must warn the townsfolk—"
"No," Bard cut her off, his anger fading into resignation. "They won't listen. Not now, with their eyes blinded by Thorin's promises of gold. And even if they did, the mayor would never let them leave."
"Papa..." Sigrid stepped toward him, her voice trembling with worry. Bard pulled her into a protective embrace, but the weight of Talessa's silence bore down on the room.
"Father!" Bain's voice suddenly broke through the tense air. "The mountain—it's on fire!"
They all rushed to the window. Through the thickening dusk, flames could be seen flickering from the slits and cracks of Erebor, making it appear ablaze.
"It's coming for us," Talessa whispered, clutching Eline's hand. Her wide eyes remained fixed on the mountain, unable to look away.
The first screams came from the docks, spreading through the town like wildfire. Fíli grabbed a rugged knife and dashed outside to investigate. Moments later, he returned—followed by Tauriel.
The elf swept past everyone, her focus entirely on Kíli, who was now too delirious to distinguish reality. He reached for her weakly, calling her an angel. Tauriel knelt beside him, her worry etched on her face as she examined his wound.
Fíli quickly explained that orcs were attacking the town. Bard and his children paled. At that moment, Bofur burst into the room, a handful of herbs clutched in his hands.
"This is all I could find," he panted, his face grim. He froze when he saw Tauriel.
"Athelas," she murmured, her voice calming. "It is exactly what we need." She took the herbs from him and directed the dwarves to help hold Kíli steady while she tended to his wound.
"We're leaving," Bard declared to his children, ordering them to pack their essentials. He headed to the kitchen, grabbing his bow and arrow.
Talessa followed him, her panic rising. If he left the town, there would be no one to slay the dragon, as she was sure that was what she saw in her vision: Bard standing on the tower, firing that great black arrow.
The arrow... that was now hanging from the ceiling of the kitchen, being used as a herb rack. She quickly climbed onto a stool and yanked the arrow down, holding it tightly to her chest. She took a wild guess, piecing together fragments of the stories she had heard. Bard has to be a descendant of Lord Girion, the former leader of Dale—the man who had failed to kill the dragon so many years ago. Now, as fate would have it, his great-grandson would be the one to finish what Girion could not.
"You can't leave," she said firmly, blocking the man's path. "You have this arrow for a reason. You're the only one who can change the fate of this town."
Bard looked at her, displeased.
"We'll take your children to safety," she insisted, "but you must stay. That's how the prophecy really ends—you fixing what your ancestor couldn't. Slaying Smaug."
To her relief, something in her words seemed to resonate. Bard took the arrow from her hands, his eyes shifting to the windlance on the tower in the town square.
"You take them," he said at last. "Keep them safe, no matter what."
Talessa barely had time to nod before Bard dashed out the door, only for Bain to run after him moments later. She reached for the boy, but he was too quick.
✧
"We have no time," Tauriel said, rising as she finished binding Kíli's leg. "We need to leave."
"What about the orcs?" Eline asked, peering out the window. It was almost completely dark now.
"There was another elf," Bofur informed them. "I believe he's handling them."
"Legolas..." Tauriel murmured, but she shook her head, refocusing on Kíli. Though he insisted he could walk, he was still too weak, and Fíli and Oin had to help him downstairs.
Time had indeed run out. As they left the house and filed into an abandoned boat, an earsplitting roar shattered the air. A fiery blaze consumed the town in moments, the dragon's fury spilling out in waves of destruction. Now that he had lost the mountain, Smaug turned his wrath on this lonely town.
Tauriel guided the boat silently through narrow canals, dodging burning buildings and panicked crowds. Talessa kept her eyes fixed on the windlance, searching desperately for any sign of Bard. The smoke was too thick, obscuring everything, and she couldn't tell if the man had made it or not. She clung to the hope that at least his son had found him and they were safe together.
Smaug circled the town above them, deliberately targeting areas where he could cause the most destruction.
"Look!" shouted little Tilda, pointing to a burning roof near the town square.
"It's Papa!" Sigrid cried, grabbing her sister's hand. Eline reached out and pulled both of them closer as they watched Bard, now being targeted by the dragon.
They sat frozen with awe and terror as Bard leaped from building to building, narrowly avoiding dragonfire raining down around him. He was getting closer to the tower. Talessa wondered if Smaug recognized him, realized whose descendant he was. The dragon seemed fixated on Bard, as though driven by a personal vendetta against Esgaroth's bargeman.
A collective sigh of relief ran through the boat as Bard finally reached the tower, but it was short-lived. Smaug slammed his massive body into the structure, causing the upper floors to collapse. Still, Bard held on. They could just make out a smaller figure climbing up after him. As Smaug turned again, ready to finish the job, the figure reached Bard—it was Bain.
Sigrid and Tilda buried their tear-streaked faces in Eline's chest, their sobs heartbreaking as they watched their father and brother prepare for what seemed an impossible task.
From the boat, they saw Bard fastening the broken windlance, with Bain helping to steady the shattered pieces. Together, they aimed the arrow at the oncoming dragon.
It felt as if time itself had stopped as the gleaming black arrow soared through the air. Smaug didn't even try to avoid it. The arrow struck true, piercing deep into his chest. The dragon roared in pain and disbelief, a pitiful sound that echoed over the burning town. His enormous wings faltered, and he plummeted into the lake below.
There was a deafening crash of splintering wood as his body struck a lonely boat on the water. A massive splash followed, then silence as Smaug's golden-scaled form sank beneath the surface, dragged to the depths by his own immense weight.
✧
Bilbo and the dwarves watched from the outlook as Esgaroth burned. Their shoulders slumped, their faces heavy with sorrow. Their friends were down there, and they had no way of knowing whether they would survive Smaug's carnage. Some of them glanced toward Thorin. He wasn't looking at the town. Instead, his gaze was fixed on the mountain, a dazed smile spreading across his face as he held the Arkenstone tightly in his hand.
Bilbo's stomach sank at the sight. The dwarven king's own nephews— and his lady Talessa—might be burning right now, yet Thorin seemed utterly unfazed. A surge of anger and disbelief bubbled up in Bilbo, and he opened his mouth to confront him, but his eyes met Balin's, who shook his head firmly, silently urging him to hold his tongue. This was not the time.
Suddenly, the dwarves erupted into shouts, and Bilbo spun back toward the town just in time to see the great beast Smaug plummet from the sky, crashing into the lake below. The dragon never emerged again. Relief surged through him, and his worry eased slightly, though it did not vanish entirely.
Moments later, a flock of ravens burst through the clouds, flying straight toward the Lonely Mountain.
"The ravens of Erebor are returning to the mountain!" exclaimed Gloin, his voice filled with awe.
"Before long," added Balin, "the whole of Middle-earth will know—the dragon is dead." He shouted the last part with a triumphant fervor, and the dwarves burst out in cheers.
Notes:
Okay, so I completely forgot to mention Bard's ancestry in the last chapter—whoops! I’ve squeezed it in here, and I hope it doesn’t feel too forced. Fingers crossed! (Also, if you noticed, I struggle with writing battle scenes, that's why everything seems to happen so fast. But I promise I'm trying...) ☀︎
Chapter 17: Reunions
Chapter Text
The sun rose quietly over the burned remains of Esgaroth. Talessa and her friends were helping the townsfolk set up a temporary shelter along the lakeshore. Tauriel tended to the wounded, moving with calm efficiency. Earlier, she had argued with Legolas, though Talessa hadn't heard what it was about. Whatever the issue, the male elf left in a hurry, while Tauriel assured them she would stay until everyone was safe and cared for.
Boats were constantly being rowed in and out of the smoldering town, men salvaging whatever they could. Word spread quickly that the mayor had perished—Smaug had fallen directly onto his boat, sinking it along with his guards and the treasures he had tried to escape with. The townsfolk, emboldened by his cowardice and their newfound hope, proclaimed Bard their new leader. He had been popular among the poorer citizens before, but now he was a hero to everyone.
Talessa cast a wistful gaze toward the looming mountain. No word had come from the dwarves who had ventured there, and the uncertainty gnawed at everyone, especially Kíli and Fíli. Both were restless, eager to reunite with their uncle, but they reluctantly agreed to stay until the temporary settlement of tents and wooden shelters was complete.
Kíli, recovering quickly from his wound, now trailed after Tauriel during her rounds among the injured. They made a curious pair—a beautiful, stern-faced elf, towering more than a head above the rugged, cheerful dwarf who followed her with an adoring grin.
Meanwhile, Talessa and Eline sat on a rock, handing out food portions prepared by a group of older women. Despite the devastation, there was enough food to stave off starvation. Many livestock had been saved during the evacuation, with villagers carrying their pigs and chickens to safety, and the lake continued to provide plenty of fish. Still, the approaching winter would be harsh. Talessa hoped Thorin would send enough gold and resources to aid in rebuilding the town.
Eline had been quiet since the attack, staying close to Talessa but speaking little. Talessa could feel the weight of her friend's unspoken frustration.
"I'm sorry, Eline," she said softly. She guessed the source of her friend's silence: anger at not being warned about the vision and the prophecy. "I should have told you. I just... I still wasn't sure if what I saw was real or just my imagination."
Eline's voice was flat, tinged with exhaustion. "We all could have died. Ever since we joined the dwarves, we've never truly been safe. I'm just... worried about what comes next. What is the plan, anyway?"
Talessa hesitated. "I think... I think I'm meant to stay," she admitted cautiously. "My fate seems tied to Thorin and—"
"Is that what you want, though?" Eline interrupted sharply, her eyes piercing. "Because I'm not even sure where you stand with him right now. Though," she added with a faint smile, "I did hear you screaming his name last night. Most of us did."
Talessa's face turned scarlet beneath her veil, and for a moment, she laughed along with Eline, the tension between them easing.
"I do want to stay with him," she said, more serious now. "But what about you and Fíli? I thought you might want to stay as well." Her voice wavered with uncertainty. Her visions had never revealed whether Eline's path would align with hers or diverge. The thought of losing her dearest friend weighed heavily on her heart, but she could never force Eline to stay, no matter how much she wished it.
Eline didn't respond right away, her gaze drifting to the distance. Talessa followed her line of sight and saw Fíli, shirt sleeves rolled up, carrying a heavy plank of wood. His muscled torso was visible through the thin fabric, and a soft smile touched Eline's lips.
"Do you think my family—and Bertra—would be willing to move here if we decided to stay?" Eline asked quietly, resting her head on Talessa's shoulder, her eyes still on the blonde dwarf.
Talessa allowed herself a flicker of hope. With the dwarves reclaiming Erebor, she could imagine Dale rising again, trade flourishing, and both men and dwarves repopulating the land.
"Maybe," Talessa murmured, her voice thoughtful. "It could happen. This place might truly become home."
✧
They set out for the mountain just after midday. Halfway there, they met Gloin, who had been sent to find them. The reunion was cheerful, and before long, they reached Erebor. Gloin let them in through one of the hidden doors, which could only be opened from the inside. As they stepped into the mountain, he guided them toward what he called the "dining chamber," a grand hall large enough to host at least 500 dwarves.
Fíli and Kíli, born years after Smaug's attack, had never seen their ancestors' glorious kingdom. Their awestruck expressions mirrored those of Eline and Talessa as they took in the magnificence of the architecture—the intricately carved passages and grand chambers they passed through left them all speechless.
Once reunited, the dwarves eagerly recounted their tale of driving out the dragon. They had sent Bilbo in first, but when Smaug awoke and the hobbit didn't reappear, Thorin had led the charge into the mountain. Thorin... who was conspicuously absent now.
Talessa couldn't make sense of it. Surely, if he was injured, someone would have informed them. Why wouldn't he join them, even for a short while? If not for her, at least for his nephews. The question nagged at her, and though she tried to push it aside, the ache of his absence cut deep. She felt Eline's gaze flicker toward her, sensing her turmoil.
Unable to hold back, Talessa stepped aside to where Balin and Bilbo stood, slightly removed from the others.
"Where is he?" she asked softly, keeping her voice as neutral as she could manage.
Balin and Bilbo exchanged uneasy glances before leading her a few steps farther away.
"He's in the throne room," Balin said finally, his voice heavy.
Talessa tilted her head, confused by his tone.
"I'm afraid he's... not himself," Bilbo added, searching for the right words. "It's the treasure. It seems like it got a hold on him."
"We hoped you might be able to talk to him," Balin said, his voice tinged with quiet hope.
Talessa nodded slowly, torn between her desire to see Thorin and the growing dread of what she might find.
Balin led her through a labyrinth of corridors and staircases until they reached a chamber even larger than the dining hall. A wide stone bridge stretched toward a central dais with a throne forged of gold and iron. Many feets below the bridge lay a vast pit filled with glittering mounds of treasure—gold, jewels, and artifacts, all shimmering faintly in the dim light.
"I'll wait outside," Balin said gently before retreating through a side door.
Talessa stepped onto the bridge, her footsteps hesitant, the vast emptiness of the chamber making her feel small. As she neared the dais, she could make out Thorin's figure seated on the throne. He looked down at her with an expression she couldn't read. When she was close enough, he stood and extended his arms.
"Thank Durin you are finally here!" he said, pulling her into a tight embrace. She caught the scent of sweat, leather, and smoke on him, his clothes still stained from the battle with the dragon.
Talessa leaned into his warmth, momentarily relieved, until his next words froze her in place.
"I have no one I can trust. They're all after my gold."
She stiffened in his arms, pulling back to search his face. "What do you mean?" she asked cautiously.
"The dwarves," he said, gripping her shoulders tightly. "They're after the treasure—and the Arkenstone. If they get their hands on it, they'll take our throne. We cannot trust anyone."
"Our throne?" Talessa echoed, startled.
Thorin's expression shifted, almost condescending. "Of course, it is our throne. By Durin's beard, woman, you are my wife."
Talessa stared at him, stunned. She had no memory of any such claim, save perhaps in her dreams. Seeing her confusion, Thorin took her hand, his voice softening slightly but carrying a patronizing undertone.
"You became my wife the night you gave yourself to me," he explained. "It is our tradition. Every dwarf here knows it. You are their queen now, just as I am their king. But if we are not careful, someone will take it from us."
Her knees wobbled, and Thorin guided her to his throne, pulling her into his lap. She sat numbly, her thoughts reeling. Her gaze fell on a nearby table where the Arkenstone lay, gleaming with an otherworldly light, its colors shifting like sunlight refracted through crystal. She stared at it, her mind spinning, trying to make sense of Thorin's words, his newfound paranoia, and the treasure's intoxicating pull.
✧
Nídhiel and Bertra, accompanied by the guards Elrond had sent with them, arrived at a camp near the Long Lake. They had been aiming for Esgaroth, which was supposed to rest upon the lake itself, but all they could see were charred wooden skeletons and ash carried on the wind across the desolate landscape. These must be the people who used to live there, Nídhiel thought, a pang of sorrow tightening her chest as she wondered what tragedy had befallen them.
The people in the camp paused their work as the group rode in, their wary eyes fixed on the unfamiliar figures. Despite their stares, Nídhiel felt a wave of relief—they were finally so close to Erebor. The journey, though long, had been far less arduous than she had anticipated. Bertra traveled in a sturdy little carriage pulled by two ponies, and Nídhiel often joined her, giving her horse a chance to rest. The old woman, sharp-witted yet kind, had taught Nídhiel much about the customs of Men. She found their lives so different, yet endlessly fascinating.
"What happened here?" Bertra asked, leaning out of the carriage window, her sharp eyes scanning the ruins.
A group of dirty but bright-eyed children ran up to her, their patched clothing unable to mask their youthful spirit. Bertra disappeared briefly into the carriage, returning with a handful of cinnamon candies they had purchased from a traveling merchant. The children grabbed at the treats eagerly, giggling as they prepared to run off—until a tall, dark-haired man stepped in.
"And what do we say when someone shows us kindness?" he asked, his tone firm but not unkind, his eyebrows raised.
The children exchanged sheepish looks before murmuring their thanks to Bertra and scurrying off, their laughter trailing behind them.
The caravan came to a stop, and Nídhiel dismounted from her horse, moving to help Bertra out of the cart. The tall man stood watching them carefully, his posture calm but authoritative. Nídhiel guessed he must be someone of importance among the settlers.
"My name is Nídhiel, and this is Bertra," she said with a polite inclination of her head. "Are you the mayor of this town?"
"You might call it that," he replied, his expression unreadable. "What brings you here? We've had our share of disruptive visitors lately, so you'll understand the people's caution."
"We mean no harm," Bertra said quickly, her warm smile placating. "We're just passing through, though we hoped you might be able to help us."
"We're looking for our friends," Nídhiel added. "Talessa and Eline—"
"The lady with the veil and her red-haired companion," the man interjected, his tone careful. Nídhiel nodded eagerly, though something in his manner made her pause.
"May I offer you supper?" he said after a moment. "Your friends are safe in Erebor, but you won't reach it before nightfall. You may as well rest here."
Nídhiel and Bertra exchanged a glance before agreeing. Their guards and horses needed rest, and they could use the respite as well.
The man introduced himself as Bard. Over supper, Nídhiel learned he had two daughters, Sigrid and Tilda, and a young son named Bain. Their temporary home was modest, but Sigrid's stew was delicious and warming after the chill of the road.
As they ate, Bard shared the grim tale of what had happened to Laketown. When the dwarves disturbed Smaug, the dragon unleashed his fury, reducing Esgaroth to ashes. Later, Bain revealed that it had been Bard himself who slew the beast and led the survivors to safety, saving countless lives.
Nídhiel admired Bard's quiet heroism. A man of his height and striking features, who had achieved such feats, surely deserved more pride than he allowed himself to show.
Bertra, however, wept openly at the tale, her sorrow quickly turning to anger when Bard explained how the dwarves had refused to share their treasure or offer aid to the survivors.
"My girls would never allow such cruelty!" she cried, her fists trembling. "I worry they might be captives in that mountain."
"Your friends were kind and helpful to us," Bard reassured her, flustered by the old woman's outburst. "But as far as I know, they went to the mountain of their own accord. Unfortunately, I doubt they have much influence over what treasure leaves it."
"I expected better of those dwarves," Nídhiel said quietly, sadness lacing her voice. "I'm sorry for all you've endured. I'll send word to my lord Elrond and ask if he can send some aid."
✧
The two women decided to leave their guards behind, asking them to assist in the rebuilding of Esgaroth instead. They didn't know what to expect at Erebor, but it felt wiser to approach unarmed and appear vulnerable. Still, Nídhiel discreetly strapped a long, slender elven blade beneath her green layered skirt, unwilling to be completely defenseless.
Someone must have spotted and recognized them from an overlook, for when they reached the gate, it opened slightly. An excited Eline ran out to greet them.
"How did you find us?" she cried, her voice breathless with emotion.
"Calm down, my child. You'll knock me over," Bertra scolded, though her deep laugh was genuine and warm.
"How is my family? Did you see them?" Eline asked, her voice softening with a mixture of hope and longing.
"Yes, my child, I saw them just before returning to Rivendell. They are all well, though they miss you terribly."
"I miss them too," Eline said wistfully, her mind wandering back to her earlier conversation with Tessie about whether she would stay in Erebor.
Just that morning, she had walked with Fíli and Dori, the older dwarf pointing out the ledges and terraces on the mountainside that had once been used as gardens. They had reached a particularly beautiful slope with a stunning view of the Long Lake when Dori, with a knowing smile, excused himself and disappeared, leaving her alone with the young prince.
Eline had kissed Fíli once before, in Mirkwood, when no one was looking, but this time had been different. Though he said nothing, the way he held her close felt like a question, a silent proposal. She wanted so desperately to say yes, yet fear gripped her heart. Thorin's erratic behavior horrified her, and a small part of her couldn't help but wonder if she had misjudged all dwarves, not just him.
Bertra's next words broke her reverie, filling her with despair. "Quinmaer Manor is gone, burned to the ground," the old woman said, her voice heavy with sorrow.
Eline wept at the news. Tessie had lost the only home she had ever known. The thought coated Eline's heart in despair. She had been planning to ask Talessa to leave Erebor—leave Thorin and run while they still could. Bilbo, the clever little hobbit, had suggested as much. It would have shattered her heart to leave Fíli and the others she had come to care for, but for Tessie, she would have done it. Now, with their home reduced to ashes, she wondered, Where would we even go?
"She doesn't know you're here yet," Eline said after taking a deep breath to collect herself. "Thorin's been... keeping her busy, and no one wanted to risk bothering him. She's... well, she's being kept on a bit of a tight leash."
Nídhiel and Bertra exchanged indignant glances.
"We've heard all about him," Bertra spat. "How stingy and miserly he is with his precious hoard. I warned you, girl. I told you to be careful with these folk."
Eline glanced uneasily at Bombur and Balin, who stood silently nearby in the hall, their expressions tinged with sadness.
"Not all of them are like that," she said quietly, coming to their defense. "Thorin wasn't always like this either. He's changed—something has poisoned his mind. But you're right, Bert. This isn't right."
She straightened her posture and squared her shoulders. "We'll need to talk to Tessie."
Chapter 18: The Calm Before the Storm
Notes:
Hi everyone! I am soo tired right now, but I finished the chapter and don't want to make you wait any longer. So I'm gonna just post it, in hopes that I didn't write any nonsense :D
Chapter Text
Talessa’s dreams had been empty for the past few nights. No visions, not even fragments of ordinary dreams. The absence felt thoroughly unsettling. She had just started to find solace in knowing she could see the future, and now that little sense of certainty had slipped away once again.
She wandered through the treasury, her steps echoing softly among the towering piles of gold and glittering jewels. Thorin allowed no one else in here—this space was his sanctuary, and by extension, hers. Torches mounted high on the walls cast flickering light across the chamber, but the shadows seemed to stretch deep and ominous.
She stopped before a display of ornate crowns, each encrusted with unimaginable wealth. Her breath caught when her gaze landed on the one in the center. Recognition struck her like a blow. She had seen this before—not here, not in waking life, but in a vision. She remembered the weight of it on her head, the black veil trailing over her shoulders, the somber gown draping her frame like mourning shrouds. It had felt like a funeral. A warning. She didn’t know when or how, but the memory chilled her to the bone.
Her body felt numb, a creeping sensation that had lingered with her for days. Doubt gnawed at her thoughts, regret surfacing at every turn. Thorin’s behavior had grown erratic, like a man consumed by some unseen madness. His paranoia seemed to deepen every passing day, no matter how much she tried to reason with him.
She reached out to touch the sharp edges of the crown, running her fingers along its intricate patterns. It was stunningly beautiful, a masterpiece of craftsmanship—but it felt cursed. I never should have come here, she thought bitterly. She should have accepted Beorn’s offer and parted ways when they had the chance. But she had been so enchanted by the company of dwarves, so certain that something better awaited them if they stayed together.
Now, she wasn’t sure she could leave at all. Thorin had made it clear he wouldn’t let her out of his reach.
“You can have it,” came a voice behind her, low and possessive. She stiffened, shuddering as Thorin stepped closer, as if summoned by her dark thoughts.
“You can have anything in here,” he said, his hand brushing her waist as his gaze fixed on the crown she was touching.
“Thorin… we should send some gold to Laketown,” she said softly, lifting her eyes to meet his. “They truly need the—” Her voice faltered when she saw the cold, angry emptiness in his gaze. “—the help.”
“Those greedy folk will get nothing from us,” he snapped, his voice harsh and unyielding. “This treasure is not to be given out freely. My ancestors fought and toiled for it. It is ours.”
“But there’s so much here,” she argued, her face solemn, as his eyes darkened with anger. “I’m sure you could make more if—”
“Enough!” he interrupted, his glare silencing her. They had argued about this too many times, and each time he grew angrier, more impenetrable.
Without another word, he pushed her aside, reaching for the crown. He picked it up and carefully placed it on her head, as though the conversation had never happened.
“It is a bit wide,” he mused, tilting his head to study her. “I’ll have it adjusted for you.”
✧
Later, Talessa met with Bilbo, Balin, and Dwalin. They still clung to a sliver of hope that she might be able to reason with their king, but once again, she had to disappoint them.
“We all admire him,” Dwalin said, his voice heavy with concern. “Any of us would gladly follow him—even into death. But we are worried.”
“I know,” Talessa murmured, looking at their troubled faces. “I am too.”
“I believe I'm not saying anything new,” Bilbo added carefully, “but with this kind of behavior, we might as well—khm, die, and sooner rather than later! Laketown is furious, and understandably so. All they asked for was a bit of help, and he turned them away so cruelly.”
“And that’s not the worst of it, I’m afraid,” Balin sighed, his expression grim. “The ravens have brought word—an elven army is approaching from Mirkwood.”
Talessa buried her veiled face in her hands, despair settling deep within her chest. It could only be Thranduil, coming to claim the jewels she had promised him. Jewels she would never be able to deliver—not with Thorin guarding his treasure as if every single coin held his very soul.
The only solace Talessa found was the unexpected presence of Bertra and Nídhiel. She hadn’t even noticed their arrival until Eline found her and hurried her to them.
It was a tearful reunion as they spoke of everything that had happened—almost everything. Neither Eline, Nídhiel, nor Bertra breathed a word about Quinmaer Manor. Eline had made certain of it, pleading with her friends to keep silent. There was already too much weighing on Talessa’s shoulders, and she feared that adding this loss to it would only pull her back into that dark, suffocating sadness she had fought so hard to escape.
But when the conversation turned to Thorin, there was no hiding the worry on Talessa’s face.
When she admitted that, by dwarven standards, she was as good as married to him, Bertra nearly fainted. They had to help her into a chaise and press a cool cloth to her forehead until she recovered.
“Oh, you foolish child, how could you?” Bertra gasped, clutching her chest, her voice stricken with disbelief.
“As far as it matters, it’s not a legitimate marriage on your part,” Nídhiel said, her tone soothing but firm. “Men and elves have different traditions, Tessie. It means you’re not bound to him. You’re free to leave.”
But Talessa knew it wasn’t that simple. If she left now, Thorin would only spiral further into madness—and it would be his loyal companions who suffered for it.
“Has anyone heard from Gandalf?” Eline asked when Bilbo entered the room, some of the dwarves following behind him. The wizard might have answers. Perhaps even a cure.
Bilbo shook his head, his expression grim. “No word from him. And what’s worse, Thorin has forbidden anyone from entering the mountain. Even if Gandalf arrived, he wouldn’t be able to get in.”
✧
Thranduil’s army arrived that afternoon, settling among the ruins of Dale. Their golden armor stood out vividly against the city's dull grey remnants, a stark contrast that reminded Talessa of the cursed gold resting in Erebor’s caverns.
Bard of Laketown was the first to approach, requesting an audience with Thorin. Talessa didn’t hear their exchange, but Balin later told her that Bard had come to claim Thorin’s promise—to share his gold with the men of Laketown. Once again, Thorin refused. Instead, he ordered the gate to be barricaded with stones, even sacrificing one of the proud dwarven statues that stood before the entrance. Balin also mentioned that Thorin had sent a raven to his cousin, Dáin, the Lord of the Iron Hills, summoning his army to Erebor.
It was an omen. Talessa didn’t need her foresight to know that war was coming.
That night, she waited in silence until Thorin fell asleep. In the evenings, when they were alone in his chambers, she could almost forget what was happening outside. He was gentle with her then—calm and even cheerful, as if, for those few precious hours, he could forget about his hoard. But in the mornings, he would rise and go straight to the treasure chambers, falling deeper into his affliction with each passing day.
Talessa slipped out of bed and returned to her own chamber, which was right next to his. She knew what she had to do, even without a vision to guide her. She changed into the simplest midnight-blue dress she could find and draped a matching veil over her head. One by one, she removed her golden rings, her bracelets, and her necklaces—all the jewelry Thorin had liked her to wear.
Barefoot and silent, she left the room, moving downward through the halls until she reached the vast treasure cavern. She knew exactly where to find what she was looking for—she had seen them before, on one of the walks Thorin had taken her on through his hoard. Slipping a delicate glass box into her bag, she turned toward the exit.
Thorin was in a deep sleep, yet an unease settled over her. Somehow, she felt certain that even while he dreamt, he would know what she had done.
She was nearly at the door when she bumped into something soft.
Startled, she peered into the dim chamber. With her veil obscuring her vision, she saw nothing before her—yet her instincts whispered otherwise. Taking a cautious chance, she spoke into the darkness.
"Bilbo?"
A rustling sound followed, and a second later, the hobbit appeared in front of her, clutching a bag conspicuously similar to her own.
"How did you know it was me? Did you see me?" Bilbo whispered, confused and uneasy.
"I didn’t," Talessa admitted. She decided against asking how the hobbit had managed to turn invisible at will. Instead, her gaze flickered to the faint glow escaping from his bag. "Is that—?"
"The Arkenstone," Bilbo answered sheepishly. Then, eyeing her bag, he asked, "Is that—?"
"Thranduil’s jewels," she replied with a quiet laugh. "You are a burglar after all."
"And so are you, my Lady, it seems."
There was no accusation in his tone, only understanding.
"I believe we’re both on the same mission—trying to stop this war before it begins," Talessa sighed, closing her eyes for a moment. "I only got this far, though." She lifted her bag. "I don’t know how to get out, now that the gates are barricaded."
Bilbo considered for a moment. "I might have a solution for that."
Retrieving Eline, Bertra, and Nídhiel was not a difficult decision. Bilbo was an expert at sneaking about, and they reached her friends’ chambers in no time. Convincing them was even easier—they all knew the longer they stayed, the more likely they were to be trapped forever. Talessa’s heart ached for Eline, knowing she had found something precious with Fíli. But Eline was brave enough to leave when she had to, her expression steady, her shoulders straight.
Bilbo led them to a small window, not far from the main gate. It was just wide enough for them to squeeze through and close enough to the rocks below that even Bertra could climb down safely using a rope.
Talessa watched as Nídhiel helped Bertra descend, the moonlight casting the valley in silver. She raised her eyes to the barren plain beyond—then, suddenly, her vision blurred.
The next moment, the landscape before her shifted.
She saw it vividly—flames and chaos, a battlefield teeming not only with dwarves, men, and elves, but also a nightmarish swarm of orcs, wargs, and other dark creatures.
The vision changed.
She stood on the parapet above the gate. Thorin was there, clad in his armor, his back to her as he watched the battle unfold. He turned, his face solemn, yet filled with a new kind of resolve. Talessa watched herself move, her hand extending his oaken shield toward him. He took it, his grip firm, his eyes meeting hers for a fleeting moment before looking apprehensively back at the battlefield.
The vision ended as abruptly as it had come.
Talessa blinked, shaken.
Next to her, Eline was about to climb through the window. Talessa clenched the bag containing the jewels.
"Eline, wait."
She pulled out a small piece of parchment and the chalk she always kept in her satchel. Quickly, she scribbled a message addressed to Thranduil. After a moment of hesitation, she decided to sign it as Queen Talessa. Then, slipping the note into the bag alongside the glass box, she handed it to Eline.
Eline frowned. "What are you—?"
"You need to take these to Thranduil," Talessa told her firmly. "Then take Bertra and Nídhiel and get as far from here as possible."
Eline’s face paled. "What do you mean? Tessie, you’re coming with us!" But realization dawned on her even as she protested.
Talessa wasn’t sure how to explain it—not to Eline, not even to herself. But she knew. The vision had settled something deep inside her. She had to stay. Fate had shown her where she was meant to be, and she owed fate too much to disobey.
"We’ll meet after," she said, though she wasn’t certain it wasn’t a lie. "I’ll find you all—and we will go home."
She thought she saw a shadow pass over Eline’s face before her expression hardened, as if she were about to argue. But before she could speak, Nídhiel called up from below. With one last unreadable glance, Eline clutched the bag, then slipped through the window and disappeared into the night.
Lichtlady on Chapter 4 Mon 30 Sep 2024 03:42PM UTC
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Kordelia_Vale on Chapter 4 Wed 02 Oct 2024 01:23PM UTC
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Lichtlady on Chapter 7 Mon 30 Sep 2024 04:33PM UTC
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Lichtlady on Chapter 8 Mon 30 Sep 2024 04:51PM UTC
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Lichtlady on Chapter 9 Thu 10 Oct 2024 08:19PM UTC
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