A Ruby's Shine (Thorin Oakenshield X OC)

46. Knowing The Truth

All this changed on the fourth day of our stay in Beorn's house. I was laying back in the meadow, enjoying relaxing. Fili and Kili left an hour ago to search for food and clean up from sparring. They are getting better at avoiding losing their swords, even in using some of the fighting techniques I have tried teaching them.

The sun beamed down on my tanned face as my arms laid lightly crossed on my chest. My hair, which I have stopped bothering with putting up, is splayed out on the soft grass. It is quite the warm day today for the early beginning of autumn. I noticed the dwarves were growing antsy, to sight of Gandalf or Beorn and were planning to move on for the mountain soon so we could make it in time.

I finally finished creating tough x stitches on my light grey coat with the white fur, which I am wearing now, my other coat thrown in with Beorn's rag bin. It isn't of much use to me anymore. I was able to use some frayed black cloth to tie around the middle of the longer coat than my old one to keep the coat closed and hold in the warmth. This coat reached down to my knees and, after my recent experiences, I decided to take Beorn's offer of everything seriously.

While I am the worst at sewing, leatherworking is something I can do. Maerwen insisted that I learn something else other than fighting, so I chose knowledge and leatherworking, which was hilarious because of the expression I remember Maerwen giving me when I said leatherworking. I am not the best, I can still make usable pieces. So, now I have light bits of hardened leather armor. I created two thin, flexible arm guards to store more knives in, quicker and easier access now that the coat that had hiding holes for weapons is gone. I made gloves, actually they are not really gloves. I formed leather to cover all the important parts of my hands, like the back of my hand and my palm, but left my fingers free.

At least I might end up with a few less scars on my hands. Last thing I made was more for convenience than necessary and that was a leather pad for my shoulder, to prevent Fairfin's claws from ripping up my coat.

So now more of my knives were stored in the edge of my worn boots, under the arm guards and on top of them, some in the pockets of my coat and others hidden under the tied black cloth holding my coat closed. I just hoped this clothing would last longer than the last. Dwarves must make their clothing from iron or something, because this cloak is still undamaged.

And still not returned to its owner. I am unsure why Thorin hasn't asked for it, but I have taken to using it as my blanket when laying it on the ground when I secretly returned the other blanket to its owner, that being Bofur. He hasn't even noticed his blanket is returned to him, which is amusing.

I also had a hidden, selfish reason for keeping the cloak, though it made me feel guilty.

Sleeping face down on the cloak, breathing in the smell still lingering in the cloth? Has given me dreamless sleep. While my mind is still trained to go to sleep late and wake up early, I actually sleep deeper than I normally would.

Anything to banish those recurring dreams to the far, far back of my mind. But it was embarrassing to think the smell that is clearly from Thorin's things helps me sleep. I hide it well though.

I tilted my head, picking up on a squirrel scurrying away, it's panic hitting me. I opened my eyes and looked up, already guessing who was approaching, as the sun is in the right position for late afternoon, the time Thorin comes to spar with me. I listened, relaxed, listening to Thorin's stomping, but still quieter than the rest of the dwarves, footsteps. They were so faint on the grass that, if the squirrel had not warned me, I wouldn't know he was there.

"Thorin." I said in greeting as I closed my eyes again, just feeling relaxed and tired. All this not moving, fighting, and working is messing with me. I heard Thorin stop suddenly, making me tilt my head back to see Thorin standing there, looking shocked as he stared at me.