More Than Meets the Eye

Chapter Thirty-Four

With the wedding only a little over two weeks away, Arielle found herself running mad with the last minute preparations. Responses from all around Middle Earth had arrived, with only very few declinations. Already the staff had begun preparations for the celebration, and everyone in Erebor seemed to be bracing themselves for the influx of elves from both Rivendell and Mirkwood. For Arielle, who'd only ever heard of the names Elrond and Thranduíl, she didn't quite understand the trepidation among the dwarves. While Thorin grumbled about having to host the elves, she found herself given to certain flights of fancy that perhaps her and Elen's father would be among the guests. Of course, how she would know was a mystery, unless he happened to bear a striking resemblance to them. It was silly, but she didn't care.

Besides, those flights of fancy took her mind off the constant exhaustion that seemed to permeate her entire body. Between that and the low-grade nausea that hummed through her throughout both day and night, she needed every diversion she could find.

For the most part, Thorin went out of his way to try to make things as easy for her as he could, without giving away the reason why to anyone around them. But, he had his responsibilities as king that could not be shirked and so the closer they drew to the wedding, the busier he seemed to be.

"Ari, what is it?" Elen set a cup of tea before her and skirted the table to sit across from her. "You look pale."

"I haven't been sleeping much," she confessed, tugging the saucer closer. The lemony scent of the tea turned her stomach sharply and she just as quickly shoved the saucer away.

"I don't want to know why, so please, please don't tell me."

She made a face at him. "Oh, stop. Even if that was the reason, I wouldn't say it. I learned my lesson about oversharing the night of our betrothal ball. So you can breathe easy. I'll not say a word about sharing Thorin's bed."

"Ari!"

She managed a smile despite her roiling stomach. "It's not important why I'm not sleeping. It's probably wedding-related. I cannot wait for it to be all behind us."

"Soon."

"And perhaps we will hear wedding bells—or whatever dwarves ring—for you and Brynne?"

To her surprise, Elen's pale cheeks went red. "Elen...? Why are you blushing?"

"I'm not blushing," he said, even as his cheeks grew redder still.

"Oh, but you are. Tell me, where have you been passing your nights?"

"Ari, it's not the same."

"Oh, it is absolutely the same." She couldn't resist smiling at him. "I am marrying the man I sleep with every night. Can Brynne say the same?"

"Ari, I don't know... I don't know if she'll have me."

"Why wouldn't she? You're cute and funny and kind and she'd be a fool to not see that."

"You have to say that. You're my sister."

"Which is exactly why I don't have to say that." She reached over to cover his hand. He looked a bit lost at that moment and she wanted to do whatever she could to keep him from being so lost. She knew how it felt to not fit in in Erebor, but as she was marrying Thorin, she would one day fit in more than Elen probably ever would.

"Elen, do you care for her?"

He nodded. "I do, yes."

"So, tell her."

"I don't think I can. She won't have me."

"Why not?"

He looked pained. "I'm not a dwarf."