Returning Home: A Hobbit Fanfiction

Chapter 20 - Conceal, Don't Feel, No Way To Heal

The readers have spoken, and I have answered... but I make no promises... And finally, things will probably come across as a bit strange and disjointed this chapter. That's because it's from Celia's pov, and she's kind of out of it right now. Just wanted to let you know. :D

Celia slowly followed in the footsteps of the Company, feeling as if she were walking in a fog. When she had first gotten the news about her sister, she had felt her blood rushing in her ears, and sat down before she could pass out. Fíli and Kíli were able to get her through that just by being there. Then, when she had broken down almost immediately after getting through that, they had been there for her as well. 

Now... well, she wasn't sure that anyone would be able to help her now. She wasn't sure she wanted to be helped. And if she was being really honest with herself, deep down, she wasn't really sure of anything right now.

Well, maybe of one thing. Fíli and Kíli were worried about her, and they had enough on their plate to deal with right now. They were grieving as well. So if she was sure of anything, it was that she didn't want them to worry about her any more than they already were. 

So when they looked worriedly over their shoulders at her, she shoved her burning grief deep inside her, and did her best to meet their gaze and appear rational. She couldn't smile - didn't know if she ever would again - but she could at least make herself look as close to normal as she could.

So when they spoke to her, her voice was calm and collected, though she felt like screaming and crying on the inside. Her eyes were dry, but burned from holding back tears. Her face was expressionless because she knew if she let the cracks show, she would break, and might never get fixed. Her movements were methodical because if she let go of her control, she might never stop running. And if they asked, as they always did, if she was all right, the answer was the same.

"I can keep going." Because she could. Because she couldn't lie, and say she was all right. She knew she wasn't. They knew she wasn't. But they had to keep moving. 

Thorin had pulled her aside earlier, asking if she was all right with moving on, with a gentleness that would have surprised her had she been capable of feeling anything. She'd looked him in the eye and told him she was. 

"I can keep going. The mission's not over yet." 

It was meant to be reassuring - she hadn't forgotten about the quest. Instead, his expression had changed. There had been empathy there - hadn't he lost a brother, once? - and something else. Grief and understanding. 

But not for her sister. 

For her. 

He'd nodded once, and clasped his hand to her shoulder briefly before moving on, not offering any sympathies. He didn't have to - it was all in the touch, the parting glance he threw her way, mixed with worry, before he'd assumed his stoic persona once more.

He knew what she was going through. He was a soldier, too. She still had a mission. That's how she was holding on. She had to complete her mission first, then, and only then, would she let herself feel anything. So there were no sympathies - she didn't want them, nor would she let them touch her. If she did, she might break down, and she wouldn't be able to complete her mission. She doubted she would be able to do anything at that point. 

So she slung her bow and quiver over her shoulder, hiked her pack up a bit higher, took a deep breath, and met the eyes of the others and spoke honestly when asked. Because she was all right, really. She had no physical injuries besides the long cut on her forehead that had already stopped bleeding, was able to think straight, and was completely focused on the mission. So she was all right... right?