The Warrior and The King

6. Interlude

As Kaylea Wolf rode across the river and through the open country towards the Ettenmoors she found herself constantly having to urge her horse forward. He kept slowing to a trot, flipping his ears back to listen for a command. Nihrain horses were known to become very attuned to the intent of their riders, Trajen had been with her so many years she could guide him with just a thought. It took her some time to realize he was sensing her desire to turn back to Thorin. Her thoughts were full of him, she could still taste him on her tongue, feel his body against hers, his smell of warm earth and steel. Trajen started to hesitate and she let him slow to a walk, taking time to compose herself. For a moment she let her mind linger on their farewell kiss, letting her body relive the sensations, fixing them in her mind so she could go back to them, a moment she would recall again and again in the coming months. Then she methodically packed her feelings for Thorin away, deep in her mind, and focused on the task ahead. She felt Trajen respond to her renewed focus, picking up his pace. She set her thoughts on her destination and rode swiftly into the night.

Kaylea crossed many leagues to the foot of the Ettenmoors, encountering neither Man nor beast. She came to the place where she had agreed to meet the Rangers at sunset on the day after she left Thorin's company. Since they had not yet arrived, she took the opportunity to turn her horse loose and build a fire for a meal and some coffee. She set the water on to boil and walked to the nearby stream to wash up, the cold water refreshing on her skin after the long ride. Running her hands through her hair she felt the mithril beads Thorin had given her, and found herself thinking about him again. As she sat by her fire drying her clothes and rebraiding her hair, she turned the beads between her fingers. She had decided to take them out, but now found she could not bring herself to do it. Whenever she touched them she remembered Thorin, the moments they had shared, and she wanted to keep those memories close.

Kaylea had spent lifetimes training her mind, the nature of her work depended on her ability to compartmentalize and focus. She had learned many techniques for controlling her thoughts, but this man seemed to defeat all of them. What was it about Thorin Oakenshield that so consumed her? She had been in love before, but had never felt so out of control of her own responses as she was with this Dwarven prince. Her need for him was like a stabbing pain deep in her body, the thought she might never see him again filled her with a desperate emptiness. Would he survive his quest to become King of Erebor? And if he did, a crown would dictate the need for a Dwarven princess to continue his line. She knew if they met again they would finish what had been started with that kiss, but what then?

Kaylea smiled, reminding herself that none could know what the future would bring. Taking some deep breaths to calm her mind she made a deal with herself. When she touched the mithril beads she could think about him, but at all other times she would put thoughts of Thorin aside. Carefully she worked the beads back into her hair, wondering how her Dwarven prince was faring. She had just finished tying the leather to the end of her braid when Hector trotted up to tell her the Rangers were near. She quickly finished dressing and rose to meet them.

In the days after leaving the river Thorin's company followed the winding paths up into the mountains. The path was steep and difficult, passing through stands of tall, straight trees and fields of broken rock going ever up and up. The nights grew colder as they climbed, the air thin and sharp. Gandalf led the way, he had walked these paths more recently than his companions, and knew the places where the paths diverged into dead ends. Every now and then the trees would thin and amazing vistas would open up back the way they had come, the valleys and lakes laid out below them, sparkling in the sun. Thorin had fallen into a fiercely dark mood since Kaylea's departure. He rarely spoke, ate little and walked silently at the rear of the company, his beard buried in the fur of his coat. His companions were beginning to wonder if his heart was still in this quest.