Warrior's Heart

Chapter Five

As the day progressed, the sun vanished as the clouds thickened and the winds picked up. Arielle shivered. Her dress was mostly dry, and the last thing she wanted was to spend another night in the rain.

Thorin swore softly as he struggled to build a fire. Apparently, that task normally fell to Oin or Gloin, if she understood Thorin's grumbles. She didn't know which dwarf was Oin or Gloin, and judging by Thorin's blackening mood, it was probably best not to ask.

She limped over to him, sucking in a sharp breath as she crouched beside him and let one hand come to rest on his right shoulder. "Can I assist you in any way?"

He sighed in disgust, tossing the two sticks he'd been rubbing together in vain. "Anything would most likely be better than my efforts. They make it look so bloody easy."

"It isn't difficult," she said softly, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. "But it isn't nearly as easy as it looks either."

As she spoke, she picked up his discarded sticks and went to work. "It isn't about force, you know."

He sat down hard, legs crossed, forearms resting on his knees. "I was annoyed."

She smiled as gray wisps of smoke curled away from the sticks. "See? Friction is key. Not force."

Within minutes, she'd gotten the fire started and looked up to find him shaking his head. "You also make it look easy, princess."

"I know better than to force something." She moved to sink next to him, wincing as she stretched out her wounded leg. It still stung something fierce, but she found moving it was somewhat easier now. Without thinking, she leaned against his right shoulder, letting her cheek rest against it. A gentle heat wafted from him, and even through the thick fabric of his tunic, when he moved his arm for any reason, she felt the solid granite of muscle beneath his skin.

"What is on your mind, princess?"

Without lifting her head, she looked up at him. His hair was mostly dry now, even more of a tangled mess than it had been before they found their way into the river, and she wondered if the river water had softened it any. "Where do you think the others have gotten to?"

"They're probably miles ahead of us that way," he nodded toward the thick forest, "and they are fine. They'll set up camp as well and leave with the first light of dawn. They know where we are going and I trust they will arrive just fine and be very happy to see us when we do the same."

He sounded so sure, so absolutely certain that they would make it to the Blue Mountains, that for the first time since leaving Mirkwood, she thought things might work out for the best. "How can you be so sure?"

"I know them. Most of them for either their entire lives or mine." He bent slightly to press his bearded cheek against the top of her head. "They're good, dependable men. I think they'll be more surprised to see me than I will be to see them."

"I only hope we do see them again."

"Doubt me, do you?" He lifted his head, shifting to peer down at her. "Do I seem so inept to you?"

"No." She shook her head. "Not at all. I apologize if that was the impression I gave off. It's simply..."

She let her words trail off, her thoughts not exactly falling into an order she thought would make sense to him. How did she even begin to explain that she went from being so certain she'd die out on the plains, to wondering what it would be like to live amongst dwarves. That is, if she was actually to living amongst them. For all she knew, they would enslave her once they arrived at the Blue Mountains.

He nudged her gently. "It's simply what?"

"My father exiled me, banished me to die out on the plains, either from the elements or at the hands of the Orcs. if you and the others hadn't found me..."