Rue (A Thorin Oakenshield/Hobbit Fanfiction)

4

"Mahal, Thorin. I didn't realize I bit you this hard." After the four friends had feasted, the brothers had bid Thorin and Talia goodnight, promising to meet for an early breakfast before they were to head after the Orc pack. Talia, upon noticing her friend's hand bound by his own ripped sleeve, had practically begged Thorin to take a look, and she wasn't one to beg. They sat in the two chairs Talia's kitchen had to offer, a small fire from her living room keeping them warm.

"It's not as bad as it looks, really." He told her, wishing she would stop worrying herself over him. She had other things to focus on, after all. "How's Theresa?"

"She's better. Asleep when I got home, so I assume well." She looked up at him after tossing the bind away, realizing what he was doing. "Don't change the subject!"

Bringing her chair closer to him, she examined the wound fully, now that they had adequate light and exposure. A cut, slightly deeper than the skin, sat on Thorin's left hand, going from the bottom of his thumb to the top of the skin between the thumb and forefinger.

"Does it hurt?"

"No."

"Be honest, please."

Thorin looked at her, surprised at her tone. His eyes only found hers staring right back. "Only when you first bit it. That's all, I swear."

"Well, I guess I have to believe you, don't I?"

He snorted, looking down at his hand in hers. "You haven't another choice, I'm afraid."

"Wise ass." She muttered, rummaging through the various wraps and ointments that she had salvaged from her mother's supply. Being the daughter of a healer had its perks; she was quite capable of the most basic procedures. "You obviously don't need stitches, but this is your fighting hand. I want to be careful. Let me clean and treat it with some rue, and then I'll bind it again."

Thorin watched as she washed his hand, dipping it in the basin and rubbing gentle circles to clean dried blood. Sure enough, the blood started flowing from the wound again, but he didn't mind. He wasn't lying when he said it didn't hurt. Talia held his hand over the basin and crumbled up the rue in her other palm, again rubbing his hand with small circles as she felt the rue working against the wound.

"I know it's your namesake, but I still don't know what it does."

"Many things. It helps treat cramping of the stomach and other organs, especially those that work digestively. It acts as a sedative and helps you sleep when you are restless, and it also strengthens blood flow, which is why I opt for it now. The more you bleed, the faster you'll heal, believe it or not." She placed the rest of the rue down, beginning to bind his hand tightly.

"Now it makes sense."

Talia looked at him momentarily, returning back to the bind. "What does?"

"Your namesake. It heals, you heal."

She laughed gently, so as not to wake her mother. They were both speaking in voices barely above whispers. "Come, now. I do not heal."

"Yes, you do. You calm Dis when her stomach cramps with worry, reminding her of her capability as a princess. You help your mother sleep when she cannot even remember your name, singing or reading to her. You help me bleed," Talia chuckled at this, "and you remind me of why I fight and what I love, which quickens my pulse. You heal just like rue."

Talia softened at this, fastening the bind. She returned her gaze to his. "No one's ever said such a beautiful thing to me before."

Thorin stared at her.