The Halls of Erebor

Temptation

The days passed on quietly. Everyday Frin stood at her post on the wall, uncomfortably alone with her thoughts. Thorin had been avoiding her but if she was honest with herself, she'd been avoiding him as well. She was embarrassed, embarrassed she asked, embarrassed she voiced her feelings out loud to him. During the day she constantly dwelled on him, wishing things were different. At night, she dreamt of a life free from duty where he was with her. Frin felt incredibly alone.

After a week of guarding the wall, Frin found herself wandering through the barracks one morning trying to hold her head high despite her desire to fade into the background. The room was as crowded as ever, dwarves moving around while grabbing armour and weapons. There were others taking their armour off to head home and some just rested. Frin, however, leaned against a wall twirling a dagger in her hands waiting for the room to clear. Usually, she simply walked through the barracks on her way to the wall but that morning Balin had asked her to meet. So, she stood waiting for Balin to arrive.

"Frin!" A gruff female voice called to her. Looking up in the direction of her name, Frin saw the familiar face of Dova, the female dwarf she had beaten in the fighting pit. "Balin's in the pit, come on!" She called gesturing towards the doorway leading to the pit. Reluctant to follow, Frin shoved herself forward. Together the two women left the barracks in silence.

The quiet between them grew increasingly uncomfortable as they walked. Frin was hesitant towards her, unsure how the dwarf viewed her. She knew she'd embarrassed Dova when they'd first met and wouldn't be surprised if Dova held a grudge.

"So," Frin spoke as they walked along the parapet. She hoped light conversation could ease the palpable tension. "Do you know what we're doing?"

"Nope," Dova smiled. "But the group being gathered is interesting. You, me, Balin, Dwalin, and," Dova paused.

"And?" Frin asked with a small laugh.

Dova leaned closer to her, "Prince Thorin."

"Oh?" Frin asked. "Does the prince interact with the guard often?"

"No," Dova replied. "I've seen him around, from a distance. He's in charge of the city guard but he speaks mostly with Balin, who speaks with us." Dova came to a sudden stop just before the darkened corridor, which led to the fighting pit.

"What?" Frin was suddenly concerned. Dova looked terrified.

"I've never met any of The Family before." She looked at Frin, panic showing in her eyes.

"It's easy." Frin spoke slowly trying to calm her. She was a little taken back. She never would have expected Dova, the gruff warrior to be so unsettled by royalty. "First, remember you are a warrior, then approach. When we have entered the social circle, you can simply bow your head and say 'my lord' or nothing, but just bow your head." Frin patted Dova on her back. "Don't overthink it. Just do what I do." Dova nodded nervously.

Taking the lead, Frin entered the fighting pit. The room was just as empty as it had been the first time she'd set foot in it, except for the small gathering of dwarves in the centre of the fighting ring. Instantly she recognized all three of them, Thorin, Balin and Dwalin. Without pause, refusing to show any sign of weakness, Frin moved forward.

Beneath the tough exterior, she was full of dread. She wasn't ready to face him, not yet, but she had no choice. To ignore Balin's request would be detrimental to her reputation. Despite the small voice insisting she ran away, Frin approached, stone faced and determined.

When she was a short distance from the group of dwarves, Balin noticed them. "Dova, Frin, good you're here." He called, causing the other two to take notice of them.