Chapter 9: Mediations and Mitigations.

AN: I do apologise for the delay but hey! It hasn't been a year! Only 10 months lol. This chapter refused to be written but I must say, it is good that I had waited until I was happy with it. Yes, it took forever, but this version is a thousand times better than what I had drafted almost immediately after the previous post. I really hope you are happy with this update and I want to thank you all for being so patient with me. Unfortunately, I do not think life will allow me to update as frequently as I would like to. Rest assured I am always thinking about this and I write every chance I get!

Thorin's pov

The sky to had darkened considerably as day became night; signifying the hours that had passed since the human lass was rendered unconscious by his heavy-handed blow. He was at a loss on what to do about his discovery of her unique ability to heal; for it was simply unheard of for a wound, no matter how shallow, to have healed in merely two days. However, Thorin was not one to spread rumours or half completed thoughts. Instead, he decided to wait until Elsif was able to speak for herself. It could be that her people healed quickly or perhaps she had been blessed by a wizard of her realm.

It gave him hope that the wounds he had inflicted upon her would not scar nor hinder her. Therefore, he remained silent as he kept an ever-watchful eye over her sleeping form. Earlier, he had removed the soiled bandages from her hands and did not feel the need to bind them again. Instead, he placed them beside him to be washed and dried for future use, only to have Dori arrive not long before sunset to complete the task for him. Claiming that it was so Thorin could remain by her side and have fresh bandages ready for the late evening. They would, after all, require frequent changing until the bleeding had stopped entirely.

Thorin frowned with his brooding thoughts as he examined her hands once more, observing that her mended flesh showed no signs of infection or irritation. Merely raised, scarred skin. Whatever the reason for such a rapid recovery, he had decided that it was a good thing. Good fortune was rare and should be valued. Not scrutinised with suspicion of foul play. Yet he could not shake this feeling that something was amiss. Namely due to her abnormal strength. Foreigner or not, no human can wrestle with three or four Dwarves at once and throw them around as though they were mere dolls. Yes, uncontrolled rage can strengthen a warrior… but to that extent? He was unconvinced.

He was currently in the process of unwrapping the bandage from her face as Bilbo approached with a bowl, containing the ointment he had applied earlier this day. Thorin carefully peeled away the compressed cotton pressed against her left cheek, chin and her right temple; grimacing slightly at the sound of drying blood cracking and resisting the tension of being pulled away where it had settled against her skin. Bilbo was doing his best to avoid looking at her blood as he mixed the ointment within its bowl while Thorin grabbed a fresh piece of cloth that had been soaking in a separate bowl close by. Again, by curtesy of Dori.

He wrung it between his hands silently, ignoring the Hobbit beside him as he carefully dabbed and cleaned her wounds. Being exceptionally careful around her stitches which were half the size of his thick fingers. Thorin could not help but marvel at the skill of Nori and Dori's handywork, for it must have been difficult to sew these stitches with such precision. Once satisfied with the cleanliness of her wounds, he returned the cloth to the bowl of water and rinsed it thoroughly.

No sooner had he turned away from Elsif's prone form, Bilbo had begun to apply a fresh layer of ointment to her wounds. The Hobbit frowned with his concentration and remained silent, finding it to be the best way to avoid confrontation with Thorin. The only sounds that could be heard was that of the men completing their tasks or enjoying their supper along with the occasional puff from the wizard's pipe. In fact, Gandalf was the only one who remained close by, sitting on a collection of boulders, apart from Thorin and Bilbo of course. The grey clad elder watched intently with his staff resting idly beside him. Make no mistake however, for he was quite ready to render the Nord motionless again should the need arise.

Once Bilbo had completed the application of the wizard's remedy, Thorin placed fresh padding against her wounds before gently wrapping a clean bandage around her head. He sighed in frustration as the stress of uncertainty ate away at his nerves. How much longer would they need to wait before the spell would wear off? Would Elsif be aggressive or would she be dazed? It is impossible to gage the severity of her injuries until she was alert and responsive. Then there was also the rather pressing issue of 'De Trekk'.

Their proximity threatened to make his mind hazy. Where his heart would overrule his logic with an irrational need to hold her close and apologise profusely for his actions. However, what was much worse was the desire to do so much more than merely… hold her. Such thoughts infuriated him, for he scarcely knew the fiery lass. Unfortunately, 'De Trekk' had a powerful influence over him. Amplifying his baser instincts and natural tendencies a hundredfold. The aggressive nature… and the not so well-known passion of the Dwarves in combination with his own foul temper and stubbornness was not a healthy combination. His behaviour towards his own kin, particularly his fight with Fili, was evidence of this.

But nothing could stop his mind from drifting to the memory of Elsif cleaning her exposed flesh… how her breast jiggled with her movements… how her nipple hardened with the cool breeze and how perfectly those breasts would fit into his hands… He had to physically shake the thoughts from his head as his distant expression shifted into a thunderous scowl.

'De Trekk or not… she would never allow me to court her after causing such harm. Never mind how inappropriate it would be to court or bed a woman in the midst of the company whilst on a mission where many of us may not return… Or that the woman irritates me beyond rational tolerance... Mahal must be mad to bind us together! Let alone at a time like this… and yet… there is no resisting this… Not for me but… perhaps she can and will keep us from doing something foolish.'

His expression turned sombre with his thoughts as he brooded on the possibility of losing his men on this journey. They were his friends. His kin… If this was to be their fate, he would never forgive himself and prayed that Mahal would allow him to die with them. For his grief would ensure that he would follow them. One way… or another. Suddenly, his brow lifted slightly with thoughts of Elsif's apparent carelessness in combat, throwing herself into battle every chance she gets… as though she was trying to get herself killed. Granted he was not in the position to make such a judgement for he had no basis for comparison. Merely his observations of her movement in battle accompanied with her claims to being a mercenary, a soldier, and a dragon slayer.

When pitted against their enemy during the ambush, her abilities were skilful but her awareness of her surroundings was quite limited. Had he not been by her side, she would have died. And yet, she saved him from being shot with an arrow in his back. During her sparring match with Dwalin, she took care to avoid trampling or wounding the others as they fought around them. Yet lost control of her rage and almost killed him. Then there was his fight with her… she stopped him from harming Fili. Kept his fury on her with the majority of her movements being that of a defending nature.

'She fights to protect others… yet she will not protect herself…' He furrowed his brow with these thoughts. 'Is it grief…? Is that what conflicts with her skills and her actions?' Again, it was too soon to make such judgements for he did not know this woman.

His thoughts were interrupted as a heavy feminine sigh escaped the now parted lips of the fallen shieldmaiden. He tensed as he braced himself for anything. Casting a weary glance to Gandalf, whom was now making his way towards them, before staring at Elsif's silver eye as it finally blinked.

Elsif's pov

It began as an odd sensation. An itch in the back of her mind coupled with pins and needles in the tips of her fingers and her toes. Her muscles suddenly became aware that they had been tense for hours and finally relaxed with a sense of fatigue. They were heavy and ached and completely refused to do anything but remain still, threatening to cramp if she dared to move. Her mind was abuzz with a rush of deciphering words and sensations. Pin pointing pain locations, remembering the cause, the damage to her flesh as well as feeling it mend with her beast blood kicking into gear.

Then there was the rush of memories of what she had experienced whilst in her state of paralysis. The words and expressions of those who were around her once she had been bewitched. The look of concern and fear from Bilbo, the horror and shame from Thorin. His apology to his nephew and the forgiveness that was granted him… stumped her. That odd warmth that seeped from his touch that was so foreign it caused her to remain on edge, despite it encouraging her to release her tension. By the time her mind had caught up to the present situation… her only desire was to close her eyes and sleep. She was too exhausted to be angry and her exposed eye slowly rolled shut.

The welcoming embrace of slumber clung to her immediately however it lost its grip as her shoulder was shaken by a firm hand. "You must stay awake." Claimed the deep yet soothing voice that belonged to Thorin, causing the young Nord to scald herself internally for finding anything pleasant about him.

She grimaced as her eye rolled open, finding it difficult to focus until her vision cleared. The silver orb glared at Thorin, earning an equally hostile glare of his own until Bilbo gently took her hand. The unexpected and delicate contact caused her to seek his concerned gaze, finding it hard yet again to focus for a while. "Are you alright Elsif? How… How are you feeling?"

Elsif licked her chapped lips and swallowed dryly before answering in a hoarse voice. "… Tired… with a slight headache…" She smiled as she chuckled only to wince slightly. "Nothing that a stiff drink and a good night's sleep won't fix." She continued to smile as she squeezed his hand, trying to calm the poor Hobbit's nerves. Honestly wondering how she had made such a wonderful friend in the short time she had known him.

"Bilbo, be a good fellow and fetch Nori and Dori." Offered Gandalf in the way elders ask one to do something where the option of refusal does not exist; yet it did not feel forced upon them either.

With an eager nod, Bilbo released her hand with a gentle pat before running towards the rest of the company. "She's awake!" he cried as he dashed past Fili and Kili, spurring the brothers to drop their supper in favour of chasing after him.

During this commotion, Thorin had sighed with relief. but Elsif's wolfish instincts could not help but notice his aura of aggression. She was growing quite fed up with his animosity towards Bilbo and still had every intension of making him pay for the wounds he had inflicted upon her. 'Perhaps I should show him who the alpha of this pack TRULLY is…' Her eyes widened as she felt a jolt of anxiety. 'no… NO! I will not lead again… never… never again.' She ground her teeth as she forced the wolf back into its box and did her best to hide her internal conflict from external eyes.

It was Gandalf's voice that had grabbed her attention, causing her eye to slowly focus on the elder mage as he spoke. "Are you able to sit my dear?" he asked as he leaned on his staff. Those eyes of his stared with such an intensity that she feared he could hear her every thought.

With a grimace, Elsif tensed her abdominal muscles as she slowly tried to raise her body off the ground. "I… think so. My… muscles do not wish to work…" As if on que, her abs refused to cooperate and were about to let her collapse but much to her surprise… Thorin gripped her hand as well as her shoulder and helped her to sit up.

"Yes… it will be some time before they will. An unfortunate side effect to my spell I'm afraid." He frowned as he spoke but his brow soon lifted into a look of amusement as Elsif stared at Thorin as though he were insane.

'How dare you touch me!' she seethed internally 'had you any sense at all you would be as far away from me as possible bakrauf!' The Nord tore her hand from his grip and delivered a quick jab to his jaw, glaring with agitation but not with the rage she had harboured but hours ago. Thorin grunted with the hit, instinctively flinching away from the blow while holding his jaw, looking at her as if she was the one who was insane. Elsif pointed an accusatory finger at the stunned Dwarf and spat "Do not ask me why I did that!"

Thorin's expression shifted from surprise to barely restrained anger as he climbed to his feet, making himself taller than her for once. "Clearly you are no longer in need of such delicate treatment, which would not have been necessary had you learned how to duck during your… ten years of combat experience." He all but growled as he spoke down his nose to her.

Infuriated, Elsif found herself climbing to her feet, despite how quickly her world was spinning, and stumbled as she tried to find her balance. With a new surge of adrenaline, she righted herself while experiencing the worst vertigo of her life and clenched her fists as she spoke through her teeth. "Oh that means a lot coming from the lunatic who attacked his own kin! What good is your strength and experience if it is used for the wrong reasons!?"

"Sayeth's the mercenary that flies into a homicidal rage as abruptly as the wind changes! Didn't your company ever teach you that you are not meant to kill your sparing partner?" He all but sneered, his own fists clenched as he subconsciously squared his shoulders.

"THAT'S ENOUGH FROM THE BOTH OF YOU!" Boomed Gandalf's voice as he struck his staff against the ground, causing it to quake slightly with his wrath. "I will NOT have you tearing each other apart over your own pride!"

Elsif lost her balance as the ground shook and fell to her side, striking her head against the ground with a painful cry. She clutched her head immediately and rolled onto her back, hissing as she tried to will the pain away. With his anger forgotten, Thorin dashed to her side and helped her to sit up, leaning her against the rocks that Gandalf had been resting earlier. With the ravine beside the cliff that they now faced, it provided the injured Nord with an abundance of space and fresh air. He remained by her side, holding her with one arm draped around her shoulders so that she could not possibly fall from her perch.

With a huff, the old man shook his head at the most stubborn people he had ever met in all his years of life and grumbled. "If you are quite finished with your bickering, I would like to ease some of your pain." He knelt on the ground in front of Elsif, still leaning on his staff. He did not mean to cause her harm.

The Nord in question still held her head and tilted it in such a way so that she could see the mage before her. "Are you a healer?" she asked as she tried to blink away the black spots currently dancing in her vision.

"Of a sort" he answered with a smile. Gandalf reached into his cloak to retrieve a small red bottle. He leaned his staff against his shoulder in order to remove the cork and held it out for Elsif to take. "It is truly remarkable the remedies one can make, should they know what to use and where to look."

"Wise words…" mumbled Elsif as she reached for the offered potion and brought it closer to her nose. She inhaled deeply, allowing her senses to identify each individual ingredient combined with a spice of magic… nothing smelt foul nor poisonous… so it should be safe.

"What will it do?" enquired Thorin, almost spooking Elsif from her trance like state as she was temporarily lost in the scent of the brew.

Gandalf had returned his hand to his staff and spoke assuringly. "It will reduce her pain and allow her to rest without fear of never waking."

"Well that's a relief" interjected Kili, causing the three of them to look and see that they now had a crowd.

Fili waved bashfully while Bilbo fidgeted with his fingers. Besides them stood Nori and Dori with their satchels of healing supplies, looking quite pleased to see Elsif was awake. "You had us all worried there lass." Beamed Nori cheerfully.

"And we're very glad to hear there is a remedy that can help you sleep for that will certainly help you heal." Added Dori with an affirming nod.

Feeling slightly pressured from having so many eyes on her, Elsif's lips pulled into a thin line as she tried to wriggle away from Thorin's embrace. She realised it was so she would not fall but his constant contact generated a warmth she could not describe and could no longer bare the blush that threatened to burn her cheeks.

"I'm sorry to have caused you all so much concern." She offered with a grimace since Thorin took the hint and let her go, shifting to create a gap between them now that she could hold herself steady without his assistance… unfortunately… it made her incredibly aware of the cold. That was strange onto itself, being a Nord, she was well accustomed to the cold after all. "I shall endeavour to ensure that it will not happen again."

"Don't be silly" Beamed Kili with a look of carefree dismissal.

"Friends worry about each other even when there's nothing wrong. So you're stuck with our concern no matter what!" grinned Fili, finishing his brother's sentence once more.

Bilbo even smiled and nods in agreement, causing Elsif to relax her shoulders and nod in return. "Thank you…" she sighed as she tried to smile and deliberately avoid Thorin's gaze.

With that, she drank the potion and handed the now empty bottle back to the old mage. He nods with a smile and stood slowly. Her sensitive ears could hear every crack and pop of his joints shifting into place, grimacing in sympathy of how painful that must be… and was thoroughly impressed that he did not show it. The elder took his leave, encouraging Bilbo, Fili and Kili to follow in order to allow Elsif to get some much-needed rest; while Nori and Dori checked her reflexes and her level of awareness.

~later that night~

Bilbo's pov

Bilbo stirred in his sleep at the sound of a deep rumbling racket, that could only be described as snoring. It never seemed to end and he soon gave up the notion of going to sleep any time soon. He opened his eyes with a slight frown and slowly propped himself up onto his elbow to stare at the source of the noise. He watched as Bomber inhaled half a dozen moths that had been fluttering above his mouth but moments before… only to shoot out again the moment he exhaled. The Hobbit rose his eyebrows in surprise and, if he was to be perfectly honest with himself, slight shock that poor Bomber did not choke and that the moths seemed perfectly fine.

Deciding to leave things be, he climbed onto his feet and stretched his stiff limbs as his eyes surveyed the camp. Most of the Dwarves were asleep close bye, save for Fili, Kili, Dwalin and Balin, whom sat a little further away from the fire than the others. Mr Gandalf was also awake, lost to his thoughts with his eyes fixated in a particular direction. Bilbo followed this gaze to see Thorin laying against the rocks overlooking the ravine, wrapped in his cloak for warmth. Close bye laid Elsif, who had fallen asleep not long after drinking Gandalf's potion.

Bilbo was surprised to see Thorin gently lower her to the ground and he actually covered her with his own blanket… considering how aggressive he often was towards the young woman, it truly surprised Bilbo to see these acts of kindness. Still, he was grateful they had stopped fighting for now and only hoped that their truce would last for quite some time. Especially with this… 'pull' business Balin and Dwalin tried to explain to him and to Gandalf. It was all rather personal and Bilbo felt this was a private matter belonging to Dwarvern culture. Especially since they would not go into the details. Merely stated that Thorin would be behaving strangely around Elsif, be more aggressive than usual (this notion terrified poor Bilbo greatly), and that it would be best to try to keep his distance until Thorin can settle his dispute with Elsif.

He hoped that was soon. He didn't want to spend this entire journey avoiding Thorin and sneaking conversations with his friend….

With a shake of his head, Bilbo wandered over to where the ponies had gathered gave Myrtle a scratch behind her ear. He looked around quickly to see if anyone was watching and smuggled his pony a nice fresh red apple, speaking softly as he did. "Hello, girl. Who's a good girl?" He gave her the apple and gently pets her. "It's our little secret, Myrtle. You must tell no one. Shh, shh."

He smiled as he pets her snout but there is a shriek in the air. He looks to Fili and Kili, who were still sitting by the fire and looked just as alarmed as he felt. "What was that?" He asked with wide, frightened eyes.

Elsif's pov

At the sound of the shriek, Elsif bolted awake. She drew her sword and stood ready all in one swift motion, searching for the source of the sound with one bleary eye and unstable feet. Obviously still dizzy from her poor head. Thorin had also flinched awake but did not react quite as strongly as she had, for he remained where he was as he searched for the source.

"Orcs" Kili answered Bilbo, earning a frown from the battle-ready Nord. Doing her best to ignore her pounding head.

"Orcs?" echoed Bilbo, moving to stand a little closer to the fire. Feeling safer with the young Dwarves within reach.

Thorin had flicked open his coat and crouched besides the rocks before gazing over his shoulder to see the aggressive Nord. "Elsif." He waited until she turned before motioning for her to join him. She silently moved beside him and turned her head so that her unclad eye could focus on him until he motioned towards the other side of the ravine.

She watched the two gnarly creatures milled about before jogging off to their destination. They looked nothing like the orcs of her lands granted they were too far away for her to truly tell. She sighed as she thought to herself. 'By the nine… that shriek sounded like that was right by my ear…'

She listened as Fili elaborated for his brother, never taking her eyes off the Orcs until they were long gone as he spoke with hushed words. "Throat-cutters. There'll be dozens of them out there."

Kili continued, matching his brother's tone of concern. "The lone-lands are crawling with them. They strike in the wee small hours when everyone's asleep. Quick and quiet, no screams… Just lots of blood."

Bilbo paled considerably as he began to panic. Elsif had turned to eye the brothers, gripping the hilt of her blade tightly as she considered walking the perimeter despite being told by two Dwarf healers, a King, and a grumpy mage that she should rest. But then the young lads began to laugh, thoroughly amused with frightening poor Bilbo with a very real threat. Her silver eye narrowed as she shook her head disapprovingly at the pair. Their immaturity evident and their foolishness apparent. She stood to sheath her sword and was ready to give them a lash or two… but paused once she saw that Thorin had also stood.

He faced his nephews and walked towards them as he spoke with a sternness that would make anyone shrink back in fear. "You think that's funny? You think a night raid by Orcs is a joke?"

The pair immediately sobered but continued to smile, trying their best to show their good humour held no malice. "We didn't mean anything by it."

"No. You didn't." Thorin scolded them with his eyes and voice alone. But it was enough for their smiles to drop and hang their heads in shame. He walked passed them as he chastised them. "You know nothing of the world" before standing by a dying tree, overlooking a separate ledge in silence.

Elsif found herself agreeing with Thorin's sentiment, for had brothers and sisters in arms to night raids and surprise attacks by those damn, faithless Imperials... It's just not something one should speak of in jest. Suddenly, Balin spoke up from where he and his brother sat by the fallen tree. "Don't mind him, laddie. Thorin has more cause than most to hate orcs…"

Eager to hear more, Elsif moved to sit besides Dwalin, waiting for him to signal it was ok with a nod before making herself comfortable. All who were awake either looked or listened to Balin as he continued to speak. "After the dragon took the Lonely Mountain... ...King Thror tried to reclaim the ancient Dwarf kingdom of Moria. But our enemy had got there first. Moria had been taken by legions of Orcs... ...led by the most vile of all their race: Azog the Defiler. The giant Gundabad Orc had sworn to wipe out the line of Durin. He began... by beheading the king."

The young Nord could not help but feel that pang of loss as her eye moved to focus on Thorin. He still had his back to the group but his posture was incredibly tense. Then he looked down at the mention of the King. 'You were there…' She realised as her eyes widened in shock. 'You saw your grandfather die…'

She returned her attention to Balin as he continued. "Thrain, Thorin's father, was driven mad by grief. He went missing. Taken prisoner or killed... ...we did not know. We were leaderless. Defeat and death were upon us. That is when I saw him. A young Dwarf prince... facing down the pale Orc. He stood alone against this terrible foe. His armour rent... wielding nothing but an oaken branch as a shield. Azog the Defiler learned that day... that the line of Durin would not be so easily broken. Our forces rallied... we drove the Orcs back. And our enemy... had been defeated."

The elder Dwarf took a moment to allow the memory to subside, granting himself a moment to breathe as his brother Dwalin nods with a distant stare. Then scanned the group with a hardened gaze. "But there was no feast nor song that night... for our dead were beyond the count of grief. We few had survived. And I thought to myself then... there is one who I could follow." Balin smiled proudly towards Thorin. "There is one... I could call king."

Elsif had not realised it until then, that the entire company was awake and had heard the tale. The few that were there to experience that horrible battle, held a look in their eyes, only surviving warriors can hold. They others held a look of respect and awe. Everyone now stared to Thorin as he turned to face their gaze. His eyes held no pride. No arrogance nor royal entitlement of their praise. Nay. His eyes held only grief… and anger. Elsif knew that look well for she had seen it… every time she caught her own reflection's gaze.

"And the Pale Orc?" asked Bilbo hesitantly to Balin. "What happened to him?"

Yet it was Thorin who answered with a hatred barely contained with his voice. "He slunk back into the hole whence he came. That filth died of his wounds long ago."

He walked away from the group then, wrapping himself in his cloak to stave off the cold as he headed for the tree line. It was obvious to Elsif that he needed some space to push the memories away. As well as to avoid their collective gaze. She knew… that he did not want them to revere him in admiration. For he would feel underserving of such praise.

He would not have left if he did not.