Ya'aburnee

Flames of Memory

The benefits of being locked in an elven dungeon are few, but they do feed their prisoners well, and all the empty hours give you plenty of time to think. Liv had shifted around the cell several times, but finally settled against the far wall, leaning back against it, crossed arms resting on the top of her bent knees. 

She rolled her neck back and forth to stretch it, trying to think of anything but the topic which kept drawing her thoughts. What had Thranduil meant, and Beorn? All those months ago, had she not been given the whole truth? She was just here to save the lives of some dwarves, big deal. Why were they all practically singing a funeral dirge and delivering her eulogy while she was still breathing?

And who did the sword belong to before? How did she die? Why? And what did that have to do with her own fate? She let her eyes slide shut, letting her head fall back against the stone behind her. She heard Thorin cross the cell, and then sit down beside her, not opening her eyes.

"What is on your mind?" His voice felt like music to her ears and she sighed, pushing the feeling away.

"Just thinking about how everyone I meet seems to think I'm going to die." She huffed out.

He was silent for a moment. "You're not going to die. Not while any of us are still breathing." She opened her eyes, lifting her head to look at him.

"Thorin... Don't make promises you can't keep." She sighed, leaning her head back again, but keeping her eyes open as she stared at the ceiling.

"I want to apologize." He murmured after a moment.

"What for?" She furrowed her eyebrows, glancing at him for a moment.

"In the forest... I did not know you could not see... I thought..." He trailed off.

"You thought I was intentionally being useless." His silence was confirmation enough. "The forest was affecting all our minds. And you couldn't have known, I didn't explicitly state that I couldn't see."

"Can you see now?" He asked tentatively.

She nodded. "It is dim, but the torchlight is enough so I can see. That, and..." She trailed off.

"And?"

"And the elves sort of... they sort of glow?" She laughed slightly at the absurdity. "I didn't notice it in Rivendell, but when they appeared in the forest I could see all of you."

It was silent again for several minutes, before Thorin spoke again. "Did you mean what you said?"

"Hmm?" She hummed in question.

"To Thranduil," He elaborated, "About your loyalty?"

She looked over at him. She was slumped down so far against the wall that the top of his head was slightly higher than her own. "Of course. I wouldn't lie about that." She turned to look back at the ceiling.

"Even with everyone telling you that it is unwise?" He asked.

"People have been telling me I'm making the wrong decision my whole life," She replied. "It's nothing new." She closed her eyes again. 'but you... you do not think I am a fool.' She thought, unwilling to say it aloud. And for now, at least, it seemed that the dwarf king was not angry with her. And as they sat together, she felt comfort in the warmth she felt radiating from him, and the comfortable silence that enveloped them, and for the first moment since the fire, she felt wholly and fully at peace. This feeling was not part of her instructions. How was she to know that she'd feel this warmth in her chest because of this stubborn, pig-headed, half-witted but brilliant and brave and honorable dwarf?

She said nothing, and deep down she knew it was going to have to become her best kept secret, but in secret and in silence, she let herself feel the warmth, and let the contented smile cross her face.

***

She fell asleep, sitting there against the wall, though when she woke her body had been turned, a coat beneath her, shielding her from the cold stone. She realized as she stirred, that she would've had a crick in her neck if she had been left where she was. She quickly too realized that she must have been moved after she was asleep, and the coat beneath her was not her own, and a warm, giddy feeling flooded her chest as she sat up.

Thorin lie asleep in the corner, and she stood, stretching, taking his coat and putting it over him before walking to the door of the cell.

"Is that you, lass?" She heard Balin ask from one cell over.

"Yes," She replied softly, "Thorin is asleep."

"Ah," Balin said, lowering his voice slightly. "How are you faring?"

She glanced over her shoulder at the sleeping king. "Well enough. And you?"

The old dwarf sighed. "I'm sorry to say I don't have nearly as much faith in Master Baggins as you and Thorin do. I don't think any burglar, no matter how skilled, could steal the keys from under the noses of the elves of the woodland realm."

She understood that, but she knew something Balin didn't. "He will come," She replied. "He just needs to find us first." The old dwarf was quiet, and she glanced to Thorin to make sure he was still asleep before saying softly, "Besides, if need be, I will convince the elf-king that I want to take him up on his offer to free me, and I will do my best to break you all out."

"What did he ask you for?" Balin asked.

"Simply to 'stay my madness' and to no longer follow Thorin Oakenshield." She replied.

"Oh, lass, you should have agreed to that. At the very least you could go home, to your family." Balin said.

Although he could not see it, she shook her head. "I have no family to go back to."

He was silent for a moment, "But that picture, in Rivendell..."

"I lost my family some years ago in a fire." Her voice shook slightly, but she did not cry. She had cried enough over this. "It was my birthday, and they had all gathered at my parents home to surprise me... I was running late to my own birthday party..." She laughed dryly. She did not know why she was telling him this. Perhaps because she was sick of holding onto it so tightly. "There was an accident... I am not fully sure what occurred, but when I got there, the whole house was in flames, collapsed in on itself. Men had gotten there to stop the fire, but they'd gotten there too late..." She gulped, taking in a steadying breath. "I tried to run in, but they held me back. I hated them more than anything, for the longest time." She let out a shaky breath. "I lost everything, that day..."

Balin was silent.

"Perhaps that is why I follow him so readily," Olivia said, looking at the spot where the king lay. "Because I understand... And maybe, selfishly, I want him to do what I could not... to banish the flames, to finally be able to go home." She looked back out of the cell, whispering reverently, "He reminds me of myself."