Someone to Watch Over Me

Chapter Twenty

The strangest thing about Erebor was how easily one lost track of time. There were no windows, of course, as they were deep beneath the mountain, and Seren had no way of knowing whether it was morning, noon, or night.

She bit back a sigh as she sat in the Great Hall with only her thoughts for company. She didn't know where the others were. Most likely hunting for that damned Arkenstone that haunted Thorin's thoughts day and night. What would happen if it wasn't found? What would happen if it was? Somehow, she didn't think either option would end well and she wasn't at all sure which scenario she preferred.

So much had happened over the last few days, she still hadn't been able to make it all make sense. She found her father (Bofur was the last dwarf she would have ever expected to be him) and seemed to be on the verge of losing Thorin in exchange for finding Bofur. Why did that happen? Why was she always forced to sacrifice something in order to gain something else?

She stared down at the nicked and scratched table. It was obsidian, albeit it suffered some damage from Smaug's talons, but it was easy to see it had once been a beautiful piece—inlaid with gold and and silver arranged in intricate patterns. The dwarves who'd created it were skilled beyond compare, and she wished she could have seen Erebor in its heyday, before Smaug.

"I might have, had Mama not been so stubborn," she muttered, tracing along the sharply angled edge of gold. "Why wouldn't she let us come live here? Our lives would have been so much better."

She remembered asking Mama about her father one night, and all Elmaya would say was men could not be trusted, regardless of race. They were all the same—always in search of someone newer and far more exciting.

"You need never rely on a man to take care of you, darling," she would say at bedtime, stroking Seren's hair as it spread across the pillow. "You rely on you and you alone. And consider it a gift you will never have to raise a child alone. You are fortunate in that you will never need worry about it."

At the time, Seren thought her mother's words odd, for they sounded as if Elmaya wished she'd chosen not to have a child, but when Seren asked it that was so, her mother assured her that no, of course not. She wanted Seren. She loved her. She regretted nothing.

But did she? Was that the truth? She thought they were happy, but sometimes, when Mama didn't know Seren was watching, melancholy crossed her face. Sometimes, when Seren couldn't sleep, she heard Mama in the front room where she slept, crying softly.

Seren never said anything, however. If Mama wanted her to know, she would say so. Just as she did when Seren came home all starry-eyed over seeing a handsome young dwarf prince fighting with Alfryd.

"Mama, you should have seen him! He was so brave and he moved with such grace. I didn't know dwarves could be so graceful. He was just so handsome, you know. Almost beautiful, really."

"Take care, Seren. And keep your distance from dwarves. They take what they want and go their merry way. A greedier, more selfish lot never existed."

Greedy. Selfish. She'd heard those words used to describe dwarves from many people. But those words did not seem to fit the dwarves she'd come to consider family.

They did not fit Thorin.

At least not until recently, anyway.

A heavy sigh floated to her lips and she buried her face in her hands. She was so tired. The journey catching up with her, no doubt. She was tired. Worn out. Battered. Worried. Sometimes, she wished she could see into the future, to know how this tale would turn out.

But, of course she couldn't and she had no way of knowing. She simply had to wait and see.

She started when strong hands came to rest on her shoulders, but the kneading that followed came from gentle fingers. She didn't need to look. The chill that rippled along her spine was tell enough.