A Ruby's Shine (Thorin Oakenshield X OC)

42. Don't Need Help

Philomena's POV

I gasped, my eyes opening, mind flashing with sprayed blood. I shuddered a bit at that, I knew it is a part of my dream, the same dream, but I wondered what triggered the new small tidbit. Very rarely do I remember something from the dream so vividly. I blinked my eyes furiously, pushing the dream away to the far back of my mind.

And studied the wooden rafters curiously. My mind was a bit groggy and foggy, tends to happen when I run on little sleep. I haven't done that in a really long time, I am usually more careful to at least try sleeping some. I looked around, too sleepy to move my head yes as I studied the oddly cheerful setting.

Sunlight was streaming through windows from somewhere, birds were singing and whistling to each other as tree blew in the wind. The scents of hay, pipeweed, wood, homey, milk, and something oddly pleasant hit me. I also picked up the smell of herbs and the sharp bite of something medical.

I closed my eyes, absorbing the atmosphere at the same time as I didn't trust it. Seemed to cheerful to me after my dreams. I almost wished for the loud guffaws of people in a pub below and the constant smell of ale. I twitched my nose in annoyance, opening my eyes, which widened at the sight of the massive bee sitting on my nose.

I didn't move, not particularly wanting to get stung. It flew away, but that experience sure woke me from my groggy state. I turned my head, looking around this oddly cheerful place. I could feel a blanket under me, hay poking through and poking me. I frowned a touch at that, wondering where my coat was.

My eyes moved to my hand, which made me frown even more. Clenched tightly in my hand like a lifeline and held close to my face was a familiar cloak. Embarrassment washed through me, which I quickly pummeled into the ground. I just hope I didn't cuddle with the cloak, which held faint scents of the same thing as Thorin's shield. Pipeweed, wood, leather, and something distinctly male.

Slowly, my groggy mind realised that I did not fall asleep here. I seem to remember collapsing by the door over there, but even that is a bit foggy. I loosened my tight grip on the cloak, my fingers aching from gripping it that tight. I am just lucky that none of the dwarves are awake, at least from what I can tell. I still hear their loud snoring, which I have grown used to these past months.

This cheery setting was disorienting me, my slow waking up wasn't helping either. I took a deep breath, pushing up into a sitting position, frowning even more as that did not hurt like I expected it to. I remember being in a lot of pain yesterday, my bruised ribs being one of them. I felt along my chest, realising my coat really is gone and I have tight wrappings around my ribs, helping with the pain.

I shook my head, shaking out the last dregs of sleep, my walls rising once more as I examined everything, my memory becoming sharp once more. I looked down, noticing the blanket I felt, my coat laid on the other side and a single one of my beaten up boots. I could feel the air on my foot and ankle, telling me my boot was removed. I picked up my coat, feeling the tight material of something around my arm, much tighter and better done than the weak wrapping I gave the wound yesterday.

I lifted my arm and grimaced a touch, seeing the scars along my arm and white cloth wrapped tightly around my lower arm, right over the cut. Bilbo must have told the rest of the company, and Oin must have found my bruised ribs as well, unless someone noticed yesterday.

I growled quietly to myself, not liking that they decided to take care of my injuries while I was unconscious. I have no doubt Gandal played a part in that. I can take care of myself, I don't need help.

I didn't need help, except once, over a hundred years. That doesn't change now. Next time I get an injury, and I don't doubt that I will, I will not let the dwarves notice or tend to it. I am stronger than this, I can care for myself.