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Mending the Broken Pieces	By : LadyLaran Category: Lord of the Rings Movies > Het - Male/Female Views: 13613 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own "the Hobbit" nor do I make money from this story. Tolkien and Jackson are the ones who own the characters and world.

Chapter List
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Author’s Note – I’ve been very pleased with how people are accepting how I chose to depict Laketown. I wanted the characters to see the poverty and just how badly things are going for the humans due to the dragon and their leader. Being people who have faced need before, they would notice these things in detail and want to help where they could. I hope this chapter continues to please.

Disclaimer – I do not own “the Hobbit” nor do I make money from this story. The only thing I own is the original character used in this chapter.

Chapter Thirty-four – Show of Compassion

The feast was just as awful as Hawthorn feared it would be, and it took every ounce of the proper manners her parents drummed into her head to maintain her decorum and not lose her temper. The food was of higher quality than what she’d spotted in what passed for a market on their way into the town earlier, and her stomach turned at the thought of this horrid human living so well while the others starved. In the Shire, no child went hungry and the idea of the little ones in Laketown never having plentiful good food made her angry.

The hobbit ate until she was full, then slipped what items that could be carried into the deep pockets of her jacket. The only ones she noticed were watching her were Nori and Thorin, and both gave her a small nod of understanding. She sipped at the cider, glad for the non-alcoholic version since she knew she needed her wits around her.

“I must ask, the young lady with you, she is not a dwarf, is she?”

At the Master’s words, Hawthorn went still and chanced a glance to her betrothed. She could feel Oin and Gloin, both who were sitting on either side of her, stiffen when the man’s question was asked. Their presence made her feel safe, and she was grateful for that.

“No, she is a hobbit from the Shire,” Thorin replied.

“Interesting, I know some of their produce reaches this area but I have never seen one of her kind before,” the human replied. “I’m surprised to see one with your company.”

“We are grateful she accompanied as she has helped us through many difficult situations,” Balin said to him, hoping his king would keep calm over the fact his betrothed had been singled out by such a horrid man.

“I do notice that she’s wearing braids similar to some of your company’s, which is unusual I am told,” the Master shared casually. “I’ve always heard that dwarves do not share their culture with outsiders.”

“Miss Baggins was adopted by a member of the company, and she is also betrothed to another member. In light of such things, braids are allowed,” the adviser stated, wanting the conversation to turn away from their hobbit lass.

“Is she indeed? I had heard that dwarves do not allow marriages with outsiders or adoptions.”

“Untrue,” Balin replied. “It doesn’t happen often but isn’t forbidden. As you say, we are careful in regards to what is shared with outsiders. Miss Baggins is not an outsider; she’s an important member of our company, and we are grateful she consented to join us.”

Fortunately, the Master said nothing in response and soon, the conversation was turned into a different direction. The company was relieved when his interest in Hawthorn was diverted, and she leaned slightly into her calon-tad.

“I know,” he said softly, accurately reading her body language. “He’s foul, and I don’t like how he singled you out. I would much rather you stay with at least one member of the company whenever we leave our temporary residence, and I’ll ask Thorin to make sure someone remains at our shelter so you’re not alone.”

“Agreed,” Gloin commented. “I’d feel better knowing you had an escort at all times.”

“I’ll make sure of it,” she promised. “I didn’t like him either; he makes me feel ill whenever he looks at me, and I’d prefer not being anywhere near him or his lackey if we can avoid it.”

“Good, I’ll let Thorin know,” Oin stated, gently wrapping an arm around her in hopes of comforting her. “I hope this damnable feast ends soon; I dislike celebrating when there are people in need just outside.”

Hawthorn sneezed, fishing out a handkerchief from her pocket before sneezing again.

“Are you ill?”

“Just a head cold,” she told her adoptive father. “No fever, just congestion and sneezing mostly. I was chilled for too long, and we’re lucky it’s not something worse.”

“I’ll see about making a remedy to relieve the congestion when I have access to herbs,” he promised, wincing a bit when she sneezed again.

Another sneeze had Thorin moving; there was a brief discussion between him and the Master before he gave the company a gesture that had all of them getting up with hidden sighs of relief. They exited the hall together, breathing the air that was cooler than the overly warm building the human had claimed as his.

“Nori,” Thorin murmured, giving permission and the dwarf disappeared into the darkness to carry out the task he’d been given hours earlier.

The group headed back to their temporary residence, stopping when Hawthorn approached a small child who was sitting on a step. The little one had been crying, hiccuping when the hobbit knelt in front of her with a concerned expression on her face.

“Are you all right, little one,” she asked in a gentle tone of voice.

“Mama’s sick,” she answered, rubbing her eyes in an attempt to stop her tears while her little belly gave out a loud roar of hunger.

Hawthorn looked at her adoptive father for a moment, and the dwarf and his brother headed towards them. The lass looked at the little girl, who had to be around five years old.

“This is my father,” she told the girl. “He’s a healer and can try to help your mama. Can you show him where she is?”

“You’ll help?”

“I’ll try, lassie,” he said, watching her and his brother, who was signing.

Hawthorn emptied her pockets of the food, handing them to Gloin. Within moments, the food that the company members had smuggled out were also handed to the dwarf. Gloin tucked it into his pockets, knowing at least this child would not go to bed tonight with an empty belly.

“It’s not a lot,” she told the child in an apologetic tone. “But it’ll keep that tummy of yours from growling so loud. Let my father and uncle help with your mama and hopefully, things will get better soon.”

“Are you a princess,” she asked, eyes gleaming with amazement at the fact these strangers were willing to help.

“She’s going to be a queen,” Thorin stated, kneeling beside Hawthorn. “She’s beautiful like one, isn’t she?”

“She is,” the little girl answered. “Kind and pretty, like the princesses in my stories.”

“I think so too,” the dwarf said, giving the child a warm smile. “That’s one of the reasons she’ll be a queen. You’ll have to come see her after she becomes queen so she won’t have to worry about her little friend.”

“Can I,” the child asked, making Hawthorn smile.

“Of course, I want my first friend here in Laketown to see me as often as you can,” the hobbit said. “What’s your name, sweetling?”

“I’m Astrid,” she answered.

“That’s a beautiful name for such a pretty girl,” the lass told the smaller one. “My name is Hawthorn, and it’s a pleasure to meet you. This is Thorin.”

Thorin took the child’s hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it and making her giggle. Hawthorn smiled, leaning in to lay a soft kiss on the young one’s brow.

“Yavanna watch over and keep you safe until we meet again, Astrid. My father and uncle will make sure you get home safely and see what can be done to help your mama. Make sure to listen to them and eat what they give you, all right? Uncle Gloin is a father so he knows what little ones need to do so they can grow up big and strong.”

“I will; I promise. Thank you, Queen Hawthorn and Mister Thorin,” Astrid said, making the hobbit blush darkly as the little girl got up and took Oin and Gloin by the hands to lead them to her home.

Once they were gone, Thorin rose and helped the hobbit to her feet. The company silently surrounded them, offering protection as they headed back to the house that had been given to them for their stay.

When the door closed behind them, all of the dwarrow in the group outside of Thorin bowed to the lass, making her blush.

“No, please, don’t do this. You’re my friends and family.”

“To know you hold us in such esteem does us honor,” Balin explained, still bowed. “During the journey, you have shown us that you are both a warrior and noble woman who we have been proud to fight alongside. Tonight, you showed us our future queen and to a dwarf, we know that we will always be honored to have such a kind hearted woman ruling alongside our king.”

Strong hands gently settled on her shoulders as Thorin stood behind her; his voice a soft rumble when he spoke.

“They are paying you honor, ukradel,” he said quietly. “This will be the first time they will show their loyalty to you through this action; in time, they will vow their fealty to you. After that, it will only be in formal settings when they pay obeisance to you in this manner.”

It took a moment for her to frame a response, and soon she was able to address them despite the lump in her throat.

“I hope I will always be someone you will be proud of to call friend, family, and queen,” she said to the group. “I’m relying on all of you to keep me honest and ensure I’m able to be kind of person Thorin and Erebor needs.”

“You have our promise, Aunt Hawthorn,” Fili said, hand over his heart.

Thorin pressed a kiss to her hair, then gently guided her up the stairs towards her room. They were followed by Dwalin, who was chaperoning a few feet away to give a bit of privacy, and once they reached her door, the king-in-exile cupped her face.

“The rare times I let myself dream of my One, I would try to picture who she or he could be and you, ukradel, exceed every wish and dream I ever conjured up in my mind,” he said quietly.

“Ukradel?”

“It means greatest heart of all hearts,” the dwarf lord said, smiling at the blush that darkened her pale cheeks. “I believe it suits you perfectly.”

“Thank you, fy brenin,” she murmured, making him tilt his head a bit.

“What does that mean,” Thorin asked.

“My king,” the lass shared, blinking when his eyes darkened with an emotion she couldn’t identify.

Hawthorn’s eyes closed when his lips pressed against hers, but she nearly opened them in shock when she felt his mouth open over hers and the tip of his tongue gently tease against her closed lips. Stunned and a bit at a loss, she obeyed his silent request and felt her knees go weak at the first brush of his tongue against hers. Her staff fell to the floor with a loud clatter when she let go of it to wrap her arms around his neck, finger slipping into his soft hair.

The sound of Dwalin clearing his throat was almost ignored but the calling of the king-in-exile’s name forced Thorin’s attention away from his betrothed to look at the warrior.

“That’s going beyond what’s allowed,” he warned, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Let the lass get some rest, and you need to go find some cold water.”

Thorin growled something in khuzdul at his friend, making him laugh, and he kissed her gently once more.

“May Irmo grant you sweet dreams, ukradel,” he murmured, stooping to hand her the staff she had dropped before heading down the hall.

“Sleep well, Hawthorn,” Dwalin grinned, following his friend.

“You too, Dwalin,” she called, going into her room and sitting on the bed.

She pressed shaky fingers against her lips, eyes wide at what she’d experienced just moments ago. Kissing Thorin had been wonderful but this, this was something so very new. Hawthorn could feel the residual heat racing through her body, making her wonder if this was part of what her mother had managed to tell her about being with one’s cariad. The discussion about marriage and intimate activities had been brief due to Bungo coming into the smial at the wrong times; she knew the fundamentals of what happened in the marriage bed but apparently, there was a lot more she had not been told.

Part of her really wished for her mother right then, needing an explanation of what had just happened, and she sighed. Truthfully, the hobbit didn’t feel right questioning her calon-tad or uncle and hoped that she might find someone to talk to before the wedding.

Hawthorn dressed for bed, slipping under the covers before blowing out the candle. She fell asleep with fingertips pressed against her lips, which were curved in a smile.

Author’s Note - I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Thorin got a bit carried away there, but she really did show compassion and strength. I think I love this chapter the most of the Laketown ones. Also, before I forget, I’m on tumblr now under ladylaran. If you have an account, go ahead and follow me so you’ll be able to get update reports as well as pictures that might apply to the stories I’m working on. Thanks for reading everyone. I’ll see you next week! ~ Laran
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Mending the Broken Pieces