Warrior's Heart

Chapter Twenty-Four

Arielle held her breathe as they stepped into the inn's noisy dining room. It was dark and shadowy and far more crowded than she was comfortable with. She wasn't the only uncomfortable one, judging by the way Thorin's eyes slid about the room. Then, he bobbed his head in the direction of the far corner, and she saw Dwalin and Balin already at a table.

Thorn drew out a chair. "Sit, princess." To Dwalin, he said, "Where are the others?"

"Not yet come below," Dwalin answered. "They are all still recovering from too much wedding cheer."

Arielle grinned. "The wedding was almost three days ago."

"They thoroughly celebrated." Balin's reply was droll and accompanied by an eye roll.

Thorin grabbed an empty chair from the next table and brought it over to sink into next to her. Draping his arm about the back of her chair, he leveled Balin with a long look. "This makes me uncomfortable."

"Aye, me, too." Balin nodded. "But, it is the best we could do. The only other pub is closed for renovations."

"Where even are we?" she asked.

"The village of Dunning," Balin told her. "I asked the barmaid."

"How far is that from Thorin's Gate?" She looked from Balin to Thorin and back.

"We are easily four days from home still, my lady."

She bit back a sigh at the thought of four more days on horseback. Her stomach twisted slightly in agreement. Taking the westerly path might have kept them safe, but it added time she really didn't want to spend in a saddle. "I was afraid of that."

"We can go back," Thorin said. "And take our chances with the Orc pack."

"That would be suicide," Balin told him, his voice low. He leaned closer across the table. "And do not look, but I think you are being watched."

Thorin nodded. "I thought as much."

Arielle sat back in her chair, perusing the room as carefully as she could. From a table in the corner opposite them, two ragged-looking men sat hunched over tankards of something. At first glance, they appeared no different from the others around them, but as she studied them, something seemed off.

"Do you think we might have trouble?"

Dwalin shrugged. "It is entirely possible."

"Not if we can help it." Thorin's hand came to rest on her shoulder. "There are but four of us and we are the outsiders. Let us just eat and go get some rest."

With that, a serving girl came over to take their orders and by the time she brought them back, the taproom had emptied out some, but those two men in the corner remained. But by then, the others had come down to join them and Arielle didn't miss how they all surrounded her to a certain degree. Balin's words about her carrying the heir to Durin's throne echoed in her head and as she watched Thorin, deep in discussion with Balin, the enormity of her pregnancy hit her. She had always thought one day she would of course have children, but it was such an abstract concept, like air or the ideas of worlds beyond Mirkwood.

But now, as she watched her husband gesture as he spoke, the way his teeth flashed when he smiled, the way his eyes sparkled when they fell on her, it dawned on her what this all meant. She and this man had created something entirely new and altogether wonderful, and because of that, the house of Durin would continue. Regardless of what happened when he left to confront Smaug, a piece of Thorin Oakenshield would forever live on. She would look into the eyes of their son, or their daughter, and see their father. And that would have to be enough, if he never came home.