Sansûkh (Bagginshield & Gigolas)

Chapter Twenty-One

The stars released him back into the cool grey grandeur of the world of the dead. Thorin rubbed at his eyes and then he stood stiffly from his bench. The pain in his legs had muted to a dull throb. Around him, his companions came to awareness, most groaning at their aching limbs and blinking in the darkness, dramatic after the blinding purity of Gimlîn-zâram.

Thorin tipped his neck to stretch it, and then peered at the benches surrounding the glassy, utterly-smooth pool. There was Lóni, seated and staring at the water, as motionless as a statue - ah, so it was he who watched for the youngest Hobbits. Not far from Lóni sat Kíli, who was frowning despite the blankness of his eyes. Perhaps some calamity had befallen Frodo and Sam. Thorin fervently hoped not, though the way their luck had turned these last few days he could not exactly rule it out.

Frerin touched his sleeve. "Nadad, you need to speak to Mum," he said softly. Thorin nodded after a last look at Kíli, and then he turned and forced his sore legs to take him away from the Chamber.

Frís looked weary. "Your chase is over then?" she said, and Thorin lifted a hand and rocked it side to side.

"I cannot say," he said. "It depends upon what they will find. What news from the others?"

"Balin reported," she said, turning to a slip of paper covered in Balin's firm, confident runes. "In Dale, King Brand is not the one who stalls us. Rather, it is his parliament. They argue and bicker, trying to gain the upper hand politically. King Brand is constrained by custom and needs the parliament to ratify any decision to go to war, and with such petty power-struggles in his court he cannot pledge himself to Erebor's cause."

Thorin snorted. "Men, tcch. What else?"

"Hold your temper," she said, eyeing him sternly.

"Such a warning does not exactly fill me with confidence, 'amad," he said wearily. "I will endeavor to keep it in check. What is it?"

"Ori has reported," she said, and then she sighed deeply. "Merry and Pippin were alive, at least they were when he last saw them. There was a skirmish with horsemen of some sort-"

"Yes, I know," he interrupted, and the confusion he had felt at Eomer's threat and Legolas' response washed over him again. He shook his head free of his thoughts and refocused. "What has happened?"

"He lost them," she said, and sat down with a short huff of frustration. "Ori could not find them in the chaos and the darkness and the press of orcs and horses. He searched and searched until it was nearing midnight, but the Hobbits are nowhere to be found. Now Lóni tries to seek them out, though it is nearing eight hours since he began the hunt."

"Does Gimlîn-zâram not place them close to the Hobbits when they enter?" Thorin frowned, and then he rubbed at his temples. His temper was indeed rising, but it was smothered under the heaviness of his great exhaustion.

"You know as well as I do that it is very difficult to steer the pool," she said.

"I do not have that trouble anymore, though I did at first," said Thorin. "I am mostly taken where I wish."

"You usually have a fair idea of where that is, however," she said dryly. "Ori believes they ran into Fangorn Forest. Even an Elf could not find them in there."

Thorin grimaced. "There are fell tales of that forest."

She nodded, and then she rested her head upon her hand. "That is all I have for you, inùdoy. I am sorry it is not more."

"It is enough," he said heavily, and he kissed her head. "I will play your customary part now, and tell you to sleep. You look tired."

"I am," she said, and then she smiled up at him. "How unusual. Still, I could grow to like it."