The Princess of Shadow

Chapter 6

Bilba slumped in the chair.

She'd felt resentment toward her grandfather at times for the way he treated her. He acted like like she was entirely useless, without so much as a modicum of intelligent thought. Unable to perform basic functions without careful oversight. While she accepted that she was deficient in many ways, contrary to what Sigrid and Bard said, she'd never felt she was as truly hopeless as her grandfather claimed.

Clearly, that belief had been little more than hubris.

Ingram must be so disappointed in her. He'd trusted her to do one simple thing, and she'd failed.

A shiver ran over her. The dress she wore was more suited for a banquet than a battlefield and the air inside the tent was only slightly less bitter than it was outside. She could feel blisters forming on her feet from the forced march in uncomfortable shoes, and her stomach had started to remind her that she'd skipped breakfast and it was probably now nearing lunch.

She wished she'd just stayed in bed.

Someone walked past the outside of the tent, and she tensed. Whoever it was passed, just as the last four had done, and she soon slumped in misery once more.

She wasn't even important enough to question.

The image of Bard flashed through her mind, and she tried to ignore the stab of pain that accompanied it. He'd always treated her like one of his children, as important to him as Sigrid, Bain and Tilda. He was one of the very few people who'd made her feel like she actually mattered, and some deep, dark recess of her being had wanted to still believe it. Wanted to believe everything that had happened was all somehow a mistake, a misunderstanding that would be rectified as soon as she saw them.

Yet here she was, a prisoner in the enemy's camp and Bard...was nowhere to be seen. She'd thought, for a moment, that he'd shown some concern but hours had passed and...nothing. She hadn't so much as heard him speak from outside the tent. He'd handed her over and just...left.

He'd never have done that if it had been Sigrid or Tilda.

The shadows were lengthening outside the tent. Had she really been sitting there all day? It wasn't the first time she'd had to sit and do nothing for an entire day, and it never ceased to surprise her how tiring it was. Her body ached, her mouth was dry from lack of water and her head throbbed with the beginning of a headache. She desperately needed to relieve herself as well, but was doing her best to ignore it.

Footsteps shuffled in the shadows outside the tent flap and she felt a burst of relief at the thought that someone might have finally remembered that she existed.

The image of the dark haired Durin who'd tied her up flashed through her mind and she shook her head to rid herself of it. Whenever her mind had tried to conjure a Durin she always pictured them as brutish, closer to orcs in appearance than dwarves. The surly one, Thorin she remembered Gandalf calling him, matched that description in temperament, but he'd been surprisingly normal looking in appearance.

The other one, however, whose name she'd never heard or had simply forgotten...he neither looked nor acted anything like what she'd imagined. Instead of brutish he'd been lean and fit, and rather than looking like an orc he'd been...attractive. More attractive than anyone had a right to be really. His personality had been unexpected as well, gruff and sarcastic but lacking the surliness of his kin.

Bilba frowned. What in the world was she even thinking? He was a Durin for Yavanna's sake, and he'd tied her to a chair and promptly forgotten about her. She shook her head. She must be more tired than she thought.

She shifted her weight, trying to find a comfortable position, and the poorly tied sash looped around her body slid still further. It was so bad now the thing was mostly pooled around her waist and could have been easily shaken off if she wanted. She was half afraid they would accuse her of trying to escape when they saw it, rather than accept that one of their precious Durins didn't know how to properly secure a prisoner.