The Shadow Walker

76. Decisions

I closed my eyes and pressed a hand over my mouth, trying not to vomit. Against Legolas's advice, I'd gone back to look for Haldir. And I'd found him.

I took a long, shaky breath and opened my eyes. I was back in Èowyn's room, hiding from the world and trying to pull myself back together. Haldir's sword rested on the bed beside me, and longbow leaned in the corner. Both were stained with blood, but undamaged. I'd luckily remembered to grab them before running out, saving them from being thrown in a pile and losing all identity.

A low creak rumbled from the door hinges. "Amariel."

I looked up, finding Dwalin standing just inside the room. I took a shaky breath and let it out, rubbing my face. "What do you want?"

"To talk." He closed the door behind him and leaned his ever-present axe against the wall. Crossing his arms, he added, "You fought well today. And last night. And though I'm disappointed to find you hidin' in here, snivelling over a dead Elf, I cannot deny you've matured."

A low growl rose up from my chest. He was manipulating me; I could hardly bear the sight of him. Standing, I crossed my arms over my stomach and turned my back to him. "What are you doing here, Dwalin? Not here, as in the room. Here, as in Rohan. Looking for me. What do you really want?"

A hesitation. "I forgot how perceptive you are."

I pressed my palms to my eyes. "Just cut to the chase!"

Another hesitation. "We need you, Amariel. Some fool from the Iron Hills has come to claim the throne of Erebor."

Frowning, I turned to look at Dwalin. "Who is he?"

Dwalin calmly met my gaze. "Thorin Stonehelm. Son of Dàin Ironfoot. They've been threatening to come for some time, but it seems this lad is ready to be a puppet."

I swallowed and looked down. "What's so bad about letting him take the throne?" I asked softly. "He's probably spent his whole life learning political workings. He might even enjoy it."

"Amariel," Dwalin sighed, "you don't understand the situation in Ereb—"

"And whose fault is that!?" I clenched my hands and glared at him.

"Yours!" he bellowed. "For leaving!"

I bristled. "Even when I was there, you never told me anything! You just whipped me...for things I didn't do!" Tears poked at the back of my eyes at the memory. But I didn't let my glare soften. If anything, it got colder.

Dwalin exhaled sharply. "It was only once. I didn't know better at the time."

Having to blink back tears, I whispered, "You admit it—and still you don't apologize."

"I'm not sorry," he replied matter-of-factly. "As I said, I didn't know better. It was my job to discipline you, to prepare you for your future."

I scoffed angrily, a tear slipping out. I forcefully brushed it away. "And you expect me to just...go back with you."

Dwalin looked me in the eye. "No. I don't. But I'm asking you to."

Footsteps echoed through the hall outside, then the door burst open. Legolas's keen blue eyes took in the situation, and he strode over to me, wrapping his arms around my shoulders. "What are you doing here?" he snarled at Dwalin.

"Speaking with the crown princess regarding matters you have no business in."

Legolas placed his hand under my chin, pulling my gaze up to his. "Shall I remove him from your presence?"

I gave Legolas a weak smile and looked at Dwalin. "I need time. To think, to recover...can I speak with Legolas please?"

Dwalin opened his mouth to say something, hesitated, then shut it. With a single nod, he grabbed his axe and walked out, pulling the door closed behind him.