Not Forsaken

Chapter 8

In her dream, she could see Thorin standing with a woman. She was beautiful. Long, raven-black locks, in a beautiful gown fit for a queen. Luliana knew it was Thorin's queen. Although she could not see her face, she was sure of it. She could hear her laughing, and saw the king giving her such a loving, radiant smile. His smile was so beautiful to her that it made her heart ache. She didn't understand these feelings. It confused her and intrigued her at the same time.

Then Luliana saw her mother. She was bowing before a king, although it was not Thorin. He was a striking, broad, silver-haired king, his beard woven elaborately with many braids and beads. She could not hear the words spoken, but she saw this king stand, as he plucked a bead from his beard and gave it to her mother. "As a promise to you, Lady Maiken," she heard this king saying. "For your loyalty."

Suddenly the scene flashed back to Thorin, at the Prancing Pony. Asking her mother's name. Why did he want to know my mother's name? Again Luliana found herself drawn to his piercing blue eyes. Then again, in her dream, she saw Thorin standing with his queen. His queen with the long, dark hair. He leaned down to her, smiling that achingly beautiful smile at her, and  she could hear him saying "I will never allow you to be alone again. You are not forsaken, my queen. I love you, my ghivashel. You have my heart." Oh, how I wish he was speaking to me, Luliana thought to herself. Not this queen of his. I wish he would speak those words to me!

She tried to catch even the slightest glimpse of this queen's face. Strange how dreams allude us, Luliana thought to herself. And such a strange dream. She saw only the queens piercing blue eyes, ones so familiar that they only could have been her own.

But it can't be! Luliana awoke suddenly with a start. She was laying quite tangled up in her bedroll, her small fire nearly out.

"Gypsy," she spoke to her pony, "I must be going quite insane." As if in agreement, the little pony looked up from her mound of grass, let out a soft whinny and a snort. At least I have someone to talk to, mused Luliana, as she stoked her small fire and tried to settle back to sleep. I must think of other things. She began to think of how her mother would sing to her when she was just a small girl. When she couldn't sleep. She could never remember the tune, and never all the words, but in her memory, she could piece together a song of Misty Mountains and long forgotten gold. For the first time in a very long time, she could finally see her mother's face. As she drifted back to sleep, a tear slipped silently down her cheek. She could see Maiken smiling at her.