In Time

Chapter Eight

"Samblar," Amara came into his chambers after rapping lightly on the open door, "do you have a moment?"

"Of course," he rose from his desk and faced her, "what is it?"

"I need you to do me a favor, if you wouldn't mind."

"What?"

"If you could move a table and two chairs into the Healing Room. I will be dining with Mr. Oakenshield and if he is up to it, I thought he might like to sit at an actual table."

"Will you need my help moving him?"

"No. I can manage that on my own."

"Very well. I'll see to it at once."

"Thank you."

From there, she went to the Rivendell kitchens to arrange for dinner to be brought up to the Healing Room, along with wine, pastries and tea for afterwards and by the time she returned to the Healing Room, Samblar had been and gone and Thorin gestured to it, saying, "Your helper said you asked this be brought up?"

"I did. I thought you might like to try to move from your bed, to the chair, taking small steps."

"We both know I cannot do it on my own."

"I know. And that is why you will allow me to help you." She moved around to his bedside and folded back the bedclothes. "Are you willing to accept help from an elf?"

"As long as said elf promises not to drop me."

She rolled her eyes. "I'll do my best."

He carefully eased his legs over the side of the bed, and she crouched for him to drape his arm about her neck. As he slid it about her, a slow shiver rippled down her back, one that surprised her, although she kept that to herself. Instead, she concentrated on helping to his feet and once he was there, keeping him on them. He was every bit as heavy as he looked, for dwarves were solid muscle from their broad shoulders, to their wide chests, to their thick, powerful legs and Thorin Oakenshield was no exception.

"Are you all right?" she asked as he stood and trembled slightly against her.

"I am fine."

It sounded as if he spoke through gritted teeth, but she kept that observation to herself and instead said, "Tell me when you're ready and we will start with your right foot. Take as much time as you need. I know the shift in position can sometimes hurt more than any other movement."

"It simply... it burns..."

"That is perfectly normal, if uncomfortable." She eased her arm about his waist. "Try to breathe normally if you can. The shallow breaths you take now will make you lightheaded if you aren't careful. And the last thing either of us wishes is for you to faint."

"Dwarves do not faint."

She rolled her eyes again. "Oh, don't be silly. Of course they do. Any living thing will if the oxygen is cut off to their brain."

He didn't reply. His back expanded as he tried to draw in a breath and she had the feeling his muffled groan popped free of its own volition. "Easy," she murmured, rubbing his back gently. "Breathe through it. I promise you, it will pass in a moment or so."

A heavy breath leaked through his teeth. His body stiffened, then slowly the tension faded. "I think I am ready," he gritted.

"On my count, right foot first. One... two... three..."

He lifted his foot, leaning heavily on her as he did and she held him upright, whispering, "Just like that. Good... careful now and we'll do the left foot."