The Truth Beneath the Rose

Daisies and Roses

One by one, the dwarves were taken by their dreams. They were strewn all throughout the house. Some took up in Bilbo's spare room, others made themselves comfortable in chairs, few even managed to sleep on the hard floor. Nevaeh hadn't moved from her spot in front of the hearth in hours. She stated blankly into the fire until only dull flickering embers remained. A loud grunt snapped her out of her trance-like state. She looked over to see the abnormally large dwarf, Bombur, sleeping peacefully on the sofa. Peaceful as he looked, his snores could've brought down the whole house. Nevaeh smile to herself and arose from her spot. She walked soundlessly through the house and slipped out the front door. She didn't notice that she was not the only one who was having trouble sleeping. Thorin, who had been sitting in the dim dining room smoking his pipe, watched as the girl exited the home. He did not trust the girl in the slightest. Seeing her slip off into the night only made his suspicion grow. He made his way outside and looked for Nevaeh. She was nowhere to be seen. He took in the site of the Shire at night. It was so calm and peaceful. He remembered having the same feeling when looking out over the city of Dale from his balcony.

"It's lovely, isn't it?" A soft voice startled him. He turned to see no one, his eyes searched for her. "Up here."

He looked up to see Nevaeh sitting on top of the hobbit hole. She had a little white flower in her hand, admiring it. "Thought you were gone."

"No." She stated plainly, looking down at him. "I don't plan on going anywhere anytime soon, Master Dwarf." He snorted in reply and she added, "You should really get some rest. You'll need your strength for the journey ahead."

"I'll find no rest tonight." He responded.

"Suite yourself." She shrugged. She went back to picking at the little flower. Her expression told Thorin that something weighed heavily on her mind; her eyes reflected a sort of sadness. He turned to leave her to her thoughts, not wanting to intrude on her. Her voice stopped him. "You can stay if you like." She said without looking at him. 

He seemed to be having an internal debate with himself. After a few moments of arguing with himself, he went against his better judgment and joined her on top of the hobbit hole. Upon approaching her, he noticed that she sat cross-legged, with a lap full of little white flower pedals. She was picking apart another when he sat a few feet away from her. She did not look up when he came. He looked out over the sleeping village and almost felt jealous.

"It's so serene here." Nevaeh sighed. "Tucked away from the troubles of the world."

"Indeed." He agreed. There was a long, tranquil silence between them. Thorin watched as the smoke from Bilbo's chimney climbed toward the stars. He glanced over at Nevaeh as she studied another flower in her tiny hand. He thought it strange how closely she looked at the plain little flower, but then again, she was strange in general.

"What was it like?" She asked quietly.

As if he could read her mind, he answered without question, looking at the midnight horizon. "It was once the greatest kingdom in Middle-Earth. Stronghold of my grandfather. They called him the King Under the Mountain, mightiest of the Dwarf Lords. Erebor was unlike any city you have ever seen. It was built deep within the mountain. It was a fortress of emerald and gold; with great halls and towering statues. No kingdom could ever compare. Our wealth came from the earth, in precious gems hewn from rock and in great seams of gold running like rivers through stone." He stole a glance at her. She had stopped plucking at her flowers and seemed mesmerized by the story. Thorin smirked a little and continued. "The skill of my people was, and still is, unequaled. We could fashion objects of great beauty out of diamond, emerald, ruby and sapphire. We continued to delve deeper into the mountain. That is where we found it. The Heart of the Mountain. The Arkenstone. My grandfather took it as a sign. A sign that his right to rule was divine. He named it "The King's Jewel." Thorin stopped and took a deep breath. His mind lingered on the thought of the task in front of him. It caused him great stress and set his nerves on end. But he knew that he had to be strong for everyone else. It was his duty as king to be the rock of the company.