Star-Crossed

Chapter 10

Thorin helped his companion to the healer’s tent. He helped her into a large cot and slipped her boots off, unhooking her quiver so she could lie down comfortably. Thorin sat next to her as they waited for one of the healers to come. There was a white sheet that hung between each bed, for privacy reasons. He leaned a little closer to her.

“You are the only one in here and the healer still isn’t here, wonder what’s going on with him and the assistant.” She giggled, a sound rarely heard from her, usually she gave a hearty laugh or simply just a grin.

“It’s probably best that we don’t know.” She whispered back. He smiled and looked down at her. From where he sat he was able to count the darkest green flecks in her eyes. She had absent mindedly started tapping a quiet rhythm on the back of his hand, looking at the celling, then closing her eyes, letting out a deep sigh. The only sound that could be heard was that of her slow breathing.  It seemed as though the world around them had just stopped. It came to an abrupt halt, leaving everything frozen in time, silent as the night in winter.

That thought brought an image to Thorin’s mind. They had gone out at night, the snow was falling lightly around them in the grey twilight. She, of course, hadn’t brought a cloak or a heavy coat. He had taken his cloak off and wrapped it around her shoulders. While they were walking, he remembered looking at her, the snowflakes on her lashes, the wonder in her eyes as she counted stars on the grey sky, the way her hair had fallen loose and slowly started untwisting itself from her braid every time she moved, how small and delicate she looked under his large cloak, and lastly, how innocent she was behind the mask of hardness.

He remembered the tingle in his fingertips when they ran across her collar bone while he hooked the cloak around her. Thorin remembered the way she had leaned into the touch, and the shade of pink her cheeks turned when she noticed that he’d felt it. Also the way she’d hugged him when she said good night. The memories of that simple night made him smile anytime he’d thought of them, and to think that something as simple as noticing how quiet a place was could trigger the memory, one of his most treasured.

The sound of footsteps brought his mind back into the reality around him. He saw her smiling, eyes still closed, her hand clasped in his. An older dwarf entered, he clearly was not with the Erebor Company. He lifted her leg and set a few pillows under it. He looked at their hands and smiled.

“Do not fret lad, your lover will be fine.” Beuren was obviously asleep for she didn’t react to his words.

“She isn’t my lover.” Thorin said, hesitantly.

“No? Sister?” the healer was mixing something together in a small glass.

“No. Just a friend.” He replied. The healer looked at her.

“You should fix that.” The older dwarf said. “You aren’t getting any younger. You sure don’t want to end up alone in the end. It is pretty clear that there is something there, the embers of a fire. Just add more timber, lad. Make the fire strong.” He poured the concoction onto the wound on Beuren’s leg. She gasped loudly and sat up. Teeth gritted, hands clenched into fist, resisting the urge to hit, scream, or stand. Thorin took her shoulders gently in his hands and laid her down.

“The more you move the more it’s going to hurt when he sutures it up.”

“It hurts enough as it is.” She growled. “Stupid orcs. Stupid leg. Stupid knife.”

“Don’t be so negative.”

“Relax your leg lass or the needle is going to break.” The healer said. She relaxed her leg and waited. He threaded the needle, knotting the end of the thread. Rolling her leg a little more to the side he stuck the curved needle into her skin. She growled and forced her head back farther into the pillow. It was only then that Thorin noticed they hadn’t let go of each other’s hands. With a smile he tried his best to calm her down.