Of The Sun (The Hobbit/The Lord of the Rings/LOTR)

Pt. 1 - Chapter 12 - The Price of Power

"There's nothing here." Dwalin announced once they found a cave to stop the remainder of the night.

"Right lets get a fire started." Gloin said.

"No. No fire. Not in this place." Thorin argued. "Get some sleep. We start at first light."

"We were to wait in the mountains until Gandalf joined us." Balin argued. "That was the plan."

"Plans change." Thorin shrugged. "We nearly just died. Some of us would have if it weren't for the dumb luck of a rock fall."

"Dumb luck? That wasn't dumb luck." Balin said glancing over to the elf in the back who had kept her distance in the cave, huddled over by a side wall quietly. Thorin glanced over as did a few others while the dwarves went silent and looked at her expectancy waiting for her to explain what it was Balin appeared to already know.

"I can't do that again, Balin. I'm drained." She answered when he didn't appear to be saying any more. "Thorin's right. We should move when we can. There is a foul stench in these walls. One much stronger than the last I was here." That was all the explanation she would offer for the time being. Thorin nodded. He appeared to have come around to her a lot, although verbal words of approval he did not utter. He tended to nod a lot though which she thought was progressive.

"Bofur, take the first watch." Thorin said, deciding that the elf did indeed look a little weak and he would not assign her to watch.

One by one the dwarves fell asleep, for the most part soundlessly that night in utter exhaustion. It was a nice reprieve from their usual snores and Anariel enjoyed the peace and quiet.

"Perhaps you should try and sleep." Fili suggested, nearly sounding like he was cracking a joke as he wandered over to her and sat down against the wall at her side. He seemed obsessed with the idea that she must need it and she smiled over to him finding a strange sense of appreciation for his ever watchful nature. He was fond of sleep himself and the idea of her never needing any was quite baffling to him. It wasn't entirely true of course, elves did sleep and sometimes they did need it, but they could put it off for much longer than what you might think is possible. If they had a goal or a reason to stay awake... they could. If they had a purpose they would not necessarily sleep until it was fulfilled unless there was nothing they could do to achieve it at that time and were in a safe calming place.

"I will be right by morning." She insisted.

"Before then, if you rest. They're quiet tonight and you're more worn than usual. You might manage."

"Maybe you're right." She decided. She could sleep, it had been a while and right then it sounded perfect. In Lothlorien she would sleep often... for a few hours every five days or more. Her powers, she found, could also be rejuvenating when she didn't strain them like she had. Right now the opposite effect was taking hold. She was glad Gandalf wasn't there or else she would have been enduring a lecture about how if she used them more something as simple as what she had done would not have worn her out as it did.

"You did that... the rocks." Fili said quietly and she realised the real reason why he had come over to sit with her. He wanted to know. To say thank you perhaps. To ask how. She was sitting there not looking like she could even stand on her own because she had saved his life.

"Yes." She whispered.

"How? I thought you said you don't have your mother's gifts."

"I don't... I have my own." She smiled with a clever glint in her eye and he chuckled back lightly as a broader smile crossed his face. Anariel reached forward and hovered her hand over a small pebble. A white light spiralled and curled and glowed like a vine growing downwards, unfolding a tendril at a time until it licked up the rock. Fili watched with wide eyes as she raised her hand and the stone came with it. It hovered higher to her palm as the light faded to nothing more than a dull starlight, the vine now gone as it hovered below her palm, an inch from touching her skin. Slowly she turned her wrist and the pebble moved with it until her hand faced up to the ceiling and the stone hovered, now above. It rose a little higher in the air before it began to shake. The jagged and rugged edges began to flake away and peeled back until it smoothed out and polished down to a perfect sphere. When the last of the black colour of the pebble flaked off it revealed underneath that it was a brilliantly sparkling white opal with flecks of nearly all other colours shrouded in a white so perfect it could have been made of the same starlight that had come from her hand. It was not the Arkenstone, not even close, but Fili had never seen the dwarven jewel before and in his mind its colour was not unlike the opal in front of him now. It wavered in the air, the light flickered and it fell back down into her palm and he saw her hand shake lightly before she moved it to turn about her fingertips. She was worn out, barely able to do such a small thing. Well, a small thing for her perhaps, but Fili was speechless.