Chapter Text
Chapter Six
Fíli had warned Bofur, along with the rest of the Company, that there were dwarrows in the Mountain who had expressed an interest in courting Bella. Bofur hadn’t been surprised, Bella was a beautiful and brave young lady with a kind and generous heart, but he had been irritated by the information. As far as Bofur was concerned, there wasn’t a dwarrow alive who deserved his sister’s heart, not even the dwarf whom she had irrevocably given it away to. Bofur would serve and protect his King to his last breath, of course, but when it came to picking sides, he would always be on Bella’s.
Bella, whom half the dwarves in the Mountain had fallen a bit in love with.
Dwalin had meant to garner respect for their sister with the stunt he had encouraged her to pull during training, and he had, but his decision had also born consequences that he had not intended. The dwarrows had seen a warrior princess in Bella, as they rightly should have, one who was willing to do impossible things for the sake of her kin, who could fight, who had publicly forgiven that which few others would have, and who considered the needs of a people not her own by birth to be imperative. They had seen and begun to want.
Matters certainly weren’t helped by the sheer exoticness that she excluded in her manner of dress. Women of every race, including Hobbits, tended to wear dresses on all occasions; Bella only wore dresses when she absolutely had to, a trait that had made her unique even before she had left the Shire. Her ability to confidently wear trousers and waistcoats, for all that they were feminine in design, made her stand out in ways that even a dwarrowdam in lush skirts that were dripping in gems would not. Add to that the fact that the clothes had been painstakingly crafted to ensure that Bella’s status as royalty could not be misconstrued, despite the lack of precious stones adorning the garb, and there was little chance of Bella going unnoticed by anyone.
Take the outfit she was currently wearing, for instance. Golden brown trousers made of thick muslin were paired with a high-necked, burgundy-colored silk shirt that had three-tiered puffed sleeves. Atop the shirt was a gold and claret waistcoat of velvet brocade sewn to resemble oak leaves. Bella’s hair was a cascade of thin braids that were pinned up by a golden oak leaf and she wore brown and gold boots on her feet. Her mithril coat was surely tucked under her shirt, though Bofur was one of the privileged few to know that.
All in all, she looked like autumn incarnate. Powerful and breathtakingly gorgeous.
Few dwarrowdams carried swords strapped to their hips everywhere they went either, preferring daggers and knives to bulky weapons as they went about their everyday lives; Sting never left Bella’s side and that was noticed as well. A warrior princess, indeed.
Bofur had no issue with how Bella chose to dress; he would never even dare assume that he even had the right to take issue with it. It made Bella happy and so that was that. If it meant he and the rest of her brothers had to worry about upstart dwarves who cared more about the turn of Bella’s face and her fame than her heart, well, that was a price that they agreed to pay to keep her happy.
Nothing would come of it, Bofur was sure, because Bella was incapable of even entertaining the idea of being with anyone but Thorin Oakenshield, for all that the King didn’t deserve her; the fool hadn’t even apologized to her for Mahal’s sake! And when it came to those who might try to force her to accept them… that was what Nori and his Shadow Shields were around for; to rid the Mountain of any and all threats to the royal family. Nori would ensure they were dead long before they could attempt to coerce their little sister into anything.
What bothered Bofur the most about the situation, in all actuality, was how uncomfortable being objectified, because that’s what all the idiots who coveted her without knowing her were doing, made Bella. If the placid mask she wore as they toured the Guild Halls had not clued Bofur in to this fact, the way she pressed close to his side, clenching her fingers around the sleeve of his jacket, certainly did. Bella’s obvious distress spurred Bofur into increasing their pace and cutting their exploration short; the Guild Halls would be much more interesting after the caravans from the Blue Mountains arrived anyway.
They couldn’t reach the Gilded Toy Chest quickly enough, but reach it they did. It was tucked into the dead center of the Western Quarter of Erebor’s Royal Bazaar, and fashioned out of a green and blue stone, much like all the shops in this particular section of the Bazaar. Bofur and Bifur had chosen this spot because of the stone; it looked cheerful, in a way, which was perfect for a toy shop. The Gilded Toy Chest was, currently, the only shop prepping for business, as the few others who wished to open stores had chosen places in the Southern and Eastern Quarters.
Bofur was very proud of the lovely space that he and his cousin had created, and so he was delighted by the childlike wonder that washed over Bella’s features the moment she caught sight of the hundreds of toys lining the walls and shelves. Most of the toys had been hand-carved from various types of wood and then painted or set with tiny chips of gems, but a fair number had also been fashioned out of metal, mostly tin although there were a few tucked inside reinforced glass cases that were made of silver and gold, and there was a small collection of crystal figurines too.
“They’re fairies!” Bella exclaimed happily, catching sight of the crystal, “Oh, Bo, they’re incredible. Everything is. You and Bifur are going to have a time keeping up with the demand once you open.”
“We plan on hiring a few other dwarrows to help us,” Bofur told her, “We have friends coming from the Blue Mountains, ones who have skill in toy making, that have already agreed to come work for us. Two of them are skilled with making plush toys, so we’ll be selling those too, eventually.”
“You’ve done an amazing job, already,” Bella praised, and then she trailed her fingers across the edge of a low table in the center of the shop, “What is this? What are all of the little drawers around it for?”
“It’s a puzzle,” Bofur explained, reaching over to demonstrate how one could slide the intricately carved pieces on the surface of the table either horizontally or vertically, “A game for the dwarflings to play. The point is to unlock one of the drawers in under five minutes’ time; if they do, they get to keep the prize that is inside.”
“That’s generous of you,” Bella smiled.
“We can afford to be now,” Bofur said, “The puzzle game will help bring more customers into the store too. Oh, I have something for you, by the way.”
“You all are going to spoil me rotten within a year if you keep it up,” Bella teased.
“That’s what brothers are for, Bells,” Bofur insisted as he retrieved a bundle of green paper from behind the counter and passed it over to her, “I made this during the period of time that we thought… well.”
Bella unwrapped the bundle carefully, smoothing the paper down, and then gasped as she saw the little crystal fairy perched atop a blooming rose, a honeysuckle dangling from the fairy’s tiny hands. The fairy had strawberry-blonde curls, eyes fashioned from chips of aquamarine, glittering amethyst wings, and was wearing silver trousers and a lavender waistcoat. It was more than obvious that Bofur had based the figurine off of his sister.
“Oh, Bofur,” Bella looked at him, unshed tears making her blue-green eyes sparkle in the light of the shop’s lamps, “It’s beautiful. I’m afraid to touch it.”
“You don’t need to worry about that,” Bofur assured, “We designed all the toys to withstand the rough play of dwarflings; the crystal will not shatter easily.”
Still, when Bella lifted up the figurine, which was just slightly smaller than her palm, she cradled it in her hands as if it was something immeasurably precious, “Thank you, Bo.”
“You’re welcome, Namadith,” Bofur replied, grinning widely, “How about we grab lunch from the kitchens and then head to Dale?”
“Yes, alright,” Bella agreed, “I want to drop this off in my rooms before we leave for Dale, though. I don’t want anything happening to it.”
“As you wish,” Bofur acquiesced.
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Bella and Bofur had not quite made it to the Royal Wing when they were approached by panting dwarf who gasped out, “Lord Bofur, there’s a problem in the Diamond Mines; a section gave way. Prince Fíli needs to see you immediately.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Bofur assured the harried-looking dwarrow who seemed to be trying desperately to catch his breath, “I just need to escort my sister to the Royal Wing first.”
“Is he alright?” Bella asked, worried.
“I’m fine, Your Highness,” the dwarf assured, “Dwarves are natural sprinters.”
“I can escort her to the Royal Wing,” Thorin announced, having approached the three of them from behind.
Bella turned to look at him and blinked in surprise. He was not dressed as he usually was, in blue and silver, but in dark shades of green and ebony. He still looked like a king, though the garb was less adorned than usual. It was very similar to how Kíli preferred to dress, though Bella’s brother favored silver hues over black. It was a very good look on Thorin; he seemed less the unapproachable King Under the Mountain like this.
“Okay,” Bofur nodded, “We’ll probably have to put off Dale until tomorrow, Bells. The last time a section collapsed it took several hours to sort it out.”
“You need to go to Dale?” Thorin asked Bella.
“Want is probably the more accurate term,” Bella rejoined, “There are spices that I was going to purchase; Ori found recipes in the library that call for some rare types of seasoning from the east and traders from that region arrived yesterday.”
“I can take you,” Thorin offered, surprising Bella. “If they arrived yesterday then by tomorrow their supply will have reduced significantly.”
“If… if you don’t mind,” Bella replied, “Then that would be lovely.”
“I don’t mind,” Thorin assured.
“I’ll see you later then,” Bella informed Bofur, who looked a cross between confused and concerned.
“Right,” Bofur agreed charily, “Be careful.”
It very clearly was a warning, not to Bella, but to Thorin, one laced with, in Bella’s opinion, excessive severity.
“Of course,” Thorin agreed in a grave tone.
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They didn’t ask any guards to accompany them for the short walk to Dale - which turned out to be a very big mistake on their part.
The ambush was perfectly executed, the men struck just as they rounded the bend that put them out of sight of Erebor’s sentries, just before the turn that would allow Dale’s to see them. In one heartbeat, Bella and Thorin were alone on the road, and in the next they had crossbows pointed at their chests.
“Well, well,” the Master of Lake-town, for it was the Master of Lake-town, for all that he appeared to be greatly diminished since Bella had last seen him, hiding during the Battle of the Five Armies, emerged from the woods to their left, “Look what I’ve caught. The King Under the Mountain and the Sunrise Princess.”
He was much thinner than he had been back then, and the clothes he was wearing were threadbare, a stark contrast to the opulent robes he had worn in the days before the Battle. He also had a thick scar marring the right side of his face and neck.
“Don’t shout, don’t try to run, or I’ll be inclined to have my men shoot you both,” the Master advised, “Surrender your swords, now.”
Bella looked at Thorin and, at his jerky nod, unbuckled Sting’s holster and passed it over to the nearest man.
“Let the Princess go,” Thorin snapped as he allowed Orcrist to be snatched away by the Master, “You have me, you do not need her.”
“Having you guarantees me nothing from Erebor,” the Master contradicted, “You’ll have given orders to your people to deny anyone who takes you the ransom they ask for. The halfling, on the other hand, is worth her weight in gold a thousand times over. She was the target, not you. Capturing you, this day, oh King, was simply a lovely turn of fate.”
“She saved your life, you ungrateful swine,” Thorin fired back.
“I’m very grateful,” the Master denied, “I’m even more grateful that she is going to make me one of the richest men in Arda.”
“Let Thorin go,” Bella attempted.
“I don’t think so,” the Master countered, “It wasn’t my intention to catch him today, the rumor was that you were heading to Dale with one of members of your precious Company.”
Bella’s eyes widened at that slip; someone in Erebor had sold them out. Bella looked over at Thorin and saw that he had realized this as well. There was a traitor within the Mountain.
“But now that I have him,” the Master was still speaking, “I fully intend to capitalize on it. I’m going to kill you, Thorin Oakenshield, slowly, painfully, for what you did to me. Because of you, I’ve lost the respect of my people, nearly all of them have left Esgaroth now, have pledged themselves to that bastard Bard.”
“You never had the respect of your people,” Thorin spat at him, “They hated you!”
“They feared me!” the Master retorted, “Now, I’m barely more than a laughingstock! The men with me now are the only ones left that are loyal to me. I’m going to kill you, but not before I make you witness the death of your halfling and your nephews.” The Master regarded Bella with a leer, “She’s very pretty, perhaps I’ll taste for myself why you are so enamored with her before I slit her throat.”
Thorin roared, wrath plainly writ upon his features, and he swung ferociously at the Master, who barely dodged him.
One of the Master’s soldiers lowered his crossbow, grasped Bella by the throat with stunning speed, and squeezed, making her gasp. Thorin froze, looking horrified at the sight, and the fight abandoned him at once. Two more soldiers grabbed his arms and the man holding Bella dropped her; she collapsed to her knees, heaving for breath, her hands curling into the muddied road.
“Bind his hands,” the Master ordered, “And gag him as well; I don’t want to risk any hunters hearing him as we move through the woods.”
The soldiers forced Thorin’s hands in front of him, wrapping thick twine around his wrists and knotting it tightly. A ragged strip of cloth was slipped between his lips and tied securely at the back of his head, effectively muffling his voice.
Bella used the brief distraction to slip her left hand surreptitiously into the pocket of her trousers, her fingers closing around the fairy she had forgotten to place inside her suite. Carefully, Bella pushed the figurine deep into the mire beneath her, until only the very tip of it was showing. The way she had positioned it, only someone who knew the difference between the sun glinting off of slick mud and a gemstone would pay any heed to it; only a miner or a jeweler would see the sparkle and think it strange, would realize that it was just a fraction too bright to be a random speck in the sludge.
The Company would tear apart the surrounding land in their search for Bella and Thorin; they would find the fairy hidden in the soft earth. They would see and understand why it was pointed north toward the woods. They would find their sister and their king… and then the disgraced Master of Lake-town would learn why a band of only fifteen had been able to bring down a dragon without the help of anyone else.
“Let’s move,” the Master ordered, “We’ve dallied long enough.”
Bella was jerked roughly to her feet, eliciting a furious growl from Thorin. She met his eyes, and was startled by how very blue they seemed in that moment, lit from within with a righteous anger. He must have believed her surprise was something more akin to fear, because he snarled again and tried to lunge toward her.
The Master grabbed Thorin by his hair and jerked his head up, raising Orcrist and placing it at Thorin’s exposed throat, “I am this close to just killing you now.”
Orcrist cleaved Thorin’s head from his shoulders, blood splattering everywhere.
“No,” Bella cried as remnants from that terrible nightmare flashed before her, and she jerked wildly against the tight grip of the soldier who held her, “Please!”
“Gag her too,” the Master barked, lowering Orcrist, “Quickly!”
His soldiers obeyed, lashing her hands together as well for good measure, and then Bella was shoved forward. Thorin reached out, his bound hands gripping hers briefly, gentle despite his obvious ire, before they were torn apart and forced to march into the woods.
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It was just past three when the Company realized that Bella and Thorin had never made it to Dale.
The section collapse in the Diamond Mines had been less of a setback and more of a happy accident; once the fallen rocks had been cleared away a rather large chamber full of blue diamonds, a resource thought to have been exhausted in Erebor long ago, had been discovered.
Fíli had immediately dispatched messengers to go fetch Thorin and Bella from Dale, because this was fairly important news and the King needed to know at once, only to have the couriers return, sans his uncle and sister, an hour later with news that made his blood run cold. Somehow, Bella and Thorin had vanished before ever reaching the gates of the other kingdom.
The alarm was sounded immediately and Fíli had all of the Company, plus Dáin, gathered together in a ridiculously short amount of time.
Balin had to stay behind, to monitor the affairs of the kingdom, but the rest of them exited Erebor on a warpath, scouring the road for clues as to how two members of the royal family could simply disappear. Fíli was going to line every inch of Bella’s clothing with bells and he was going to chain Thorin to his throne. What in Mahal’s name had they been thinking, leaving Erebor without protection? Alright, so that was typical of Thorin, but he had let Bella leave the Mountain without guards and that… that was unacceptable. Never mind that Bella probably hadn’t considered the lack of guards to be an issue either; there were going to be so many fucking bells.
It took thirty minutes of desperate searching before he noticed it. Just there, there was something glinting in the muddy road in a way that wasn’t typical of mud at all. Fíli trotted over to the area, knelt down, and carefully scooped out the object that had been buried just beneath the surface. It was made of crystal, it was a fairy made of crystal actually, he realized, as he brushed the muck off of it. The craftsmanship was exquisite; the figurine was clearly dwarven made. And the little fairy… it looked like Bél with wings.
“That’s Bella’s,” Bofur spoke up urgently from Fíli’s side, his eyes wide, “I gave it to her just this morning.”
“Why would she bury it?” Dáin asked, perplexed. “Is that a Hobbit custom, to bury gifts?”
“She didn’t just bury it,” Nori replied in a scathing tone that would have gotten him in trouble in any other situation but this, “She planted it for us to find. Clever, Namad, very clever.”
“It was pointing into the woods,” Fíli revealed, unable to look away from the fairy. It hadn’t broken, it still glistened in the sunlight. Fíli hoped that was a good omen.
“Whoever took them must have forced them in there.” Kíli said, “Bél’s managed to tell us exactly which way to go.”
“She did outwit a dragon,” Dwalin commented, with just a hint of pride in his voice, “It would be nothing for to get the better off some halfwit kidnapper.”
“What are we waiting for then? Let’s go get them back!” Glóin declared, incensed, “And make the fucking bastards who dared to steal our King and little sister pay.”
“Yes,” Fíli agreed, turning to look upon the Company, anger stirring in his heart in an almost barbaric way, “We take no prisoners; not for an offense like this. Every single person who laid a hand on them is already dead.”
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The accommodations that the Master of Lake-town provided Bella and Thorin were significantly inferior to the ones he had provided the year before, and even those had not exactly been inspired, truth be told. The ropes and gags had been removed and then the pair had been locked in the basement of a decrepit house some twenty miles within the woods; chained by their wrists to walls directly across from one another. Bella couldn’t have picked the locks on the cuffs, even had her lock picks not been sitting on the counter of her bathroom, forgotten in her rush to get dressed that morning, because her arms were spread wide against the cold stone at her back; there was no where near enough slack.
The Company had to know they were missing by now, Bella and Thorin had been made to walk for seven hours straight before they’d reached the house and the sun had been low in the sky when they’d been forced into it.
“Bofur is going to kill me,” Thorin sighed.
A single candle had been left burning in the basement; an oversight on the part of their captors, not an act of compassion. The light that emanated from was dim but sufficient enough for Bella to notice something very strange indeed just as she was about to contradict that statement.
“That’s my hair,” Bella blinked at Thorin, bemused, staring at the exposed skin caused by the pull of the cuff, “You’re… wearing my hair around your wrist. And that’s the betrothal bead you gave me.”
“Yes,” Thorin agreed, rather obviously not pleased that she’d noticed it.
“Why are you wearing my hair and bead around your wrist?” Bella demanded, because first he’d been furiously protective of her person and now he was wearing her hair and that didn’t make any sense.
“It’s a reminder,” Thorin revealed.
“A reminder,” Bella echoed in disbelief, “That’s… that’s more than a bit morbid, Thorin.”
“Perhaps, but one should never be allowed to forget the day that he nearly murdered his heart in a rage induced by gold lust,” Thorin commented bitterly, staring at the ground instead of at her, “The day he was foolish enough to throw away the most precious, beautiful gift that he could ever be given for the sake of a damned stone.”
Oh. Oh.
“The Arkenstone is the Heart of the Mountain and I stole it and gave it to those you considered to be your enemies,” Bella reminded softly, “I may have good reasons but-”
“You took a trinket,” Thorin disagreed, “I’m the one who nearly destroyed the true Heart of Erebor. When I recovered myself, when I realized that you were gone, most likely dead, I locked the Arkenstone away… because I could not stand the sight of it, not when you were lost to me. I would have destroyed it had Dáin not still been in the Mountain, I came to hate it so much.”
“If you wanted me back,” Bella questioned, her voice thick with a hope she could not quell, “Then why did you keep me away once you knew I was alive?”
“I knew that the farther away from me you were, the safer you would be,” Thorin murmured, “I hurt you, the one person that I should have protected and cherished above all others, and I hurt you. The gold-sickness is gone, but everyday I fear its return; I fear the damage that could be wrought through me if it did come back. I didn’t want to risk allowing you to return until I could be sure that it was gone permanently. But then, Gandalf told me that there was a far greater threat than I that had his eye fixed upon you… and I knew that keeping you away from Erebor would no longer be the safer option for you, Bella.”
“Thorin,” Bella all but whispered, afraid of her voice breaking should she speak any louder, “Why didn’t you tell me all of this before now?”
“I nearly did,” Thorin said, “The night of the engagement party. I almost confessed everything to you then, but…”
“But?” Bella prompted
“I can not ask for your forgiveness,” Thorin declared solemnly, “Because there is no circumstance in which I shall ever deserve it.”
He was an idiot… and so was she. And it was far past time to remedy that.
“Too bad,” Bella remarked, “Because you already have it; I forgave you before I ever left for Lothlórien.”
Thorin looked at her then, his face pale and his eyes glistening with unshed tears, “Bella, you can’t-”
“Would you like to know why I agreed to come to Erebor?” Bella cut him off before he could finish, “I believed Dáin, when he told me that you and my brothers wanted nothing at all to do with me. I was sure, despite Gandalf’s insistence to the contrary, that you all would only tolerate my presence in Erebor at best, but I came anyway. I came because of a nightmare; one that the Lady Galadriel told me could be more than just a bad dream, so much more. I saw you dying and the possibility of that… it was more than I could bear. So I packed up my things and let Gandalf drop me off at the Secret Door, because I couldn’t allow that dream to become reality even if you had all hated me. I came to Erebor because I love you, I will always love you, even when you’re being an idiot.”
Thorin looked wrecked, “Oh, Bella, I could never hate you, never. I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry. I have never regretted anything as I regret my words and deeds at the Gates and I’m sorry, Ghivashel.”
“I’ve missed hearing that,” Bella said.
“I’ll say it and more every day for the rest of our lives if you wish it,” Thorin vowed, “Ghivashel. Amrâlimê. Madtubirzul. I love you, more than anything.”
“I do wish it, for however long our lives are,” Bella replied.
“We are not going to die here,” Thorin swore, “We’ll get out of this, Bella, believe me.”
“I do,” Bella assured him, “I’ve never doubted your strength, Thorin, even while you were under the thrall of the gold. I knew you would overcome it.”
“Not my strength, just my love for you,” Thorin intoned miserably.
Bella winced, just a bit, “No more than you doubted mine.”
“Yes,” Thorin conceded, “I did doubt it… I doubted and that doubt left room for sickness to take root within my mind.”
“You conquered the illness, Thorin,” Bella stated.
“Because of you,” Thorin told her, “Fíli came to me, told me that orcs had arrived, that a great battle was about to be waged before our Mountain and suddenly all I could think about was the fact that I had forced you out of the safety of the Kingdom and into a situation where you had little chance of survival. The spell that the gold had cast over me broke in that moment.”
“Why do you fear falling under it again?” Bella questioned.
“Because I can feel it, pulling at me, every single day,” Thorin admitted, looking horribly ashamed, “I fear even walking near the Treasury.”
“Gandalf said…” Bella bit her lip for a moment and then continued, “Gandalf once told me that there is no force in this world more powerful than love. Maybe… maybe the reason you still feel the pull of the gold is because you’re going about this the wrong way. You isolated yourself the first time, when we first reclaimed the Mountain, and look where that led. Your refusal to be with the Company except when they force you to join them isn’t going to help you, Thorin. They love you, I love you, but as long as you push us away, we will not be able to help you.”
“You cannot be sure of that.”
“I most certainly can, Thorin,” Bella contradicted firmly. “I know what love is capable of. It drove a Hobbit who nothing of the world across all of Arda and right up the slopes of Mount Doom. The Ring found no purchase in my mind or heart because nothing it had to offer meant more to me than the thirteen dwarves that I was destroying it for.
“You are the most amazing creature to ever exist, Bella Mira,” Thorin returned, his eyes full of a reverent wonder that made her blush. Thorin shifted then, the chains securing him to the wall rattling as he strained against them, “I wish I was able to hold you.”
Bella smiled, “You can hold me all you like once we’re out of this, Khaeluh.”
“I’ll never let you go again,” Thorin warned her, his words as solemn as an oath.
“I won’t ever want you to,” Bella promised.
“If it doesn’t work,” Thorin whispered fearfully, “If the pull of the gold doesn’t fade…”
“I will not let you fall under the thrall again,” Bella announced, resolute, “That’s my oath to you, Thorin.”
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Translations
- Ghivashel – Treasure of all Treasures; Beloved
- Amrâlimê – Love of Me
- Madtubirzul – Golden Heart
- Khaeluh – My Wolf
- Namad – Sister
- Namadith – Little Sister
- Nadad – Brother
- Nadadith – Little Brother