A Tale of Time

Chapter 8: Armour and Arrows

Chapter 8: Armour and Arrows

Gailien beams as she finds two Dwarvish long knives – long enough to almost be considered short swords. They are heavier in hand than her old ones but no less balanced and no less lethal. Sheathing them, she begins to look around for any suitable armour. For the most part, what is in Erebor's armoury is more of a danger to wear than the alternative. It is too wide and would hinder her movements as it is made for a stockier build.

But in truth, she also doesn't want to put on armour. Not because it is too heavy or bulky, but because it would mean that she is going into battle, a feat she has never been through before. To wear the armour of a warrior means that she is preparing herself for something that she isn't ready for. She doesn't know how to fight in it, where the weak spots are or its strongest. But she knows her own body. So Gailien settles for the small chainmail vest, shin and forearm guards.

It hangs loosely around her waist and she begins to look around for something but Kili appears in front of her with a tight smile. He reaches around her, wrapping around a leather belt and fastens it on her upper stomach. Her wound is healing, but it aches more than she wants to admit.

"Le fael."

Kili nods once and with nothing more to do, follows him as he searches for his own armour. He finds something suitable, holding it up against himself. He pulls the pieces on and begins tightening to many clasps. To occupy herself, Gailien begins helping him, taking the ones on the back.

"I can do it myself," he says without malice.

"I know you can," she replies, moving to his side and doing the one under his arm up. "But I want to help, and you can't stop me."

"I wasn't going to." His eyes dart from her to something over her shoulder. Looking herself, she sees Fili coming towards them. "Found something then?"

Fili nods, shifting his armour around a little. "A bit big but it will do."

A hand grasps her upper arm firmly but someone walking behind her, and she is pulled away from the brothers. Thorin leads her just a little way away from the main part of the armoury and Gailien waits for him to speak first.

"You are going to fight with us?" he asks, looking over her partially armoured state. Gailien nods slowly.

"I am," she answers. "Thorin, I love you and while I may not...agree with everything I will fight by your side to the death." No matter how right or wrong anybody may be in this situation, there is an army of Elves out there threatening her family and she would rather put her own blade to her neck than not fight with the Dwarves. Thorin may be sick, but there would not be a war if Thranduil had stayed in his forest. The only person in the true right here is Bard and if she could haul enough gold to help them...

Thorin tilts his head to the side slightly. "You love me?"

"I've already told you," she hums. "Before you left for the mountain. Gerich veleth nín. You have my love."

Thorin takes a step forward, his armour slightly clinking against each other. He lifts a hand up to her chin, his thumb tracing along her jawline as he lets his eyes drift over her face. "And you already know you have mine." He bends down, placing a soft kiss on the corner of her mouth.

He begins to pull back but Gailien raises her own hand to the back of his head, pulling him back to her in a moment of desperation. Thorin eagerly gives in, biting her bottom lip for entry. His hands move around to her back before they slide back around the front, softly over her lower stomach but adds more pressure as he trails them back up to her chest.

Gailien pulls away, her eyes flickering everywhere as she coughs. She can't tell anymore whether it is truly him or not. "I'm just going to double check everything," she says quietly, brushing past him.