A tale of a Hobbit, a Wizard, thirteen Dwarves, a Siren, and how they traveled across Middle-Earth, fought their way through every danger imaginable, and made it out alive...Hopefully.
Thorin x OC
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THEY WOULD LEAVE the following morning; they had come to the conclusion during breakfast. It gave them another day to rest and prepare for the remainder of their journey to the Lonely Mountain.
"She tells me she took the Jerhem vow." Beorn spoke when passing the Dwarf King, who lent in the open doorway of the entrance to the home, smoking from his pipe. "Are you aware of its importance to her kind?"
Thorin puffed from his pipe, blowing out the smoke. "I'm aware that they hold it sacred." He eyed the tall man. He wondered why he brought it up and with him of all people. "Why do you ask?"
"Tell me, Oakenshield, were you the first to hear her voice?" The large man continued when it became apparent the Dwarf would not answer him without further explanation. "Whoever heard her first words when the vow was broken should feel honored."
"How so?" Thorin was now intrigued. The more he learned of the Sirens, he realized they had far more culture than he first originally thought.
"When the vow is broken, whoever is the first to hear the vow taker speak, holds a special place in their heart." He had knowing look as he gave his explanation. He had seen the way the two had been looking at each other all morning. "Adella once told me how serious she takes her culture. She feels the need to, because she does not wish for it to die before she does. That is how I know her feelings are true."
Thorin, not knowing how to respond, gave Beorn a thankful nod for the information. And as the large man walked away, having said all he's wanted to say, the Dwarf felt the addiction return. For it was he, who Adella had first spoken to. She had chosen him to utter those precious words to. Never had a 'thank you' held so much meaning. The thought tugged at his heart.
He had much to think about, all the thoughts muddled together in his head. He needed air before he could attempt to pick them apart. Which might not have been the best idea, when his eyes found Adella. She stood perfectly still, her wrist held up to her cheek. She breathed steadily, her fingers leaving the string of the bow, the arrow soaring through the air, landing dead center in her target.
"So, he told you." Adella breathed, walking to the target to retrieve her arrow, slipping it back into her quiver on her back. Thorin didn't respond. Simply because he didn't understand. "Hearing, remember?" She pointed to one of her ears. "I wish he would've asked me before telling you." She got back into position, letting another arrow fly, striking the targets center once again.
