Discclaimer: I do not own the Hobbit, or anything Tolkien has ever created. But I thank the Norse Gods that he lives to create such amazing pieces of work.
A/N: Hi...so I know many of you have been following my story, and I love you all for that, truly I do. I also know that some were with me when i was rewriting this, and I have yet again rewritten the story. Sorry about that, but it was definitely needed and I promise that this is the last time that I will do that until i finish the story.
If you want to reread (for those of you have read this before) go for it, there are a few changes, nothing humongous that will keep you from understanding what I am talking about, but just a few. And I have split the original first chapter into two chapters instead. ENJOY!
Chapter one
What seems like more than a millennia ago, Middle-Earth had once been a vastly different place than what the current inhabitants now knew of it as. There had once been a time when Middle-Earth had been an admirable place and was known to have an abundant amount of peace and honor amongst its people. It had been a place of many different peoples, all of whom had been decent and fair to one and another….genuine in fact, and quite trustworthy as well. Even if there were many diverse groups of people living within the borders of Middle-Earth, somehow they all found a way to co-exist without too much conflict happening – the dwarves and elves have usually been the culprits of causing strife. But even with the tension between the dwarves and elves the numerous races were able to live alongside one and another harmoniously.
These diverse races that roamed the lands of Middle-Earth, these decent folk who wished to live in a world of calm were the races of Men, Dwarves, Hobbits – the latter of whom had not even grasped a single sword in all their lives, let alone even seeing a battle with their own two eyes. Two of the lesser seen beings that still continued on meandering the vast lands of Middle-Earth are the races of the Elves and the Wizard folk, both of whom could live unimaginable long lives that could extend even past a few millenia's.
This did not come about though until the many races of people had come to the realization of how counterproductive it was to not work together, or to even attempt to set up a sort of trade between them all. So the people soon realized how counter-productive it was to work without the aide, and without a trading agreement between all of the people of Middle-Earth and set forth to change just that. The kingdoms and lands of all of the different races within Middle-Earth soon began to prosper once the Elves, Men, Hobbit's, Dwarves and even the Wizards had initiated trading throughout all of their different cultures.
Throughout this time of relative serenity and peace, there had only been but a handful of instances when these races had intermingled with one and another and married those who were not of their race – a few of those couplings had even bore children.
The years of peace and unity that Middle-Earth had been privileged enough to enjoy would only last for so long before something unforeseen and tragic came to be, it would only take but a small amount of time before something treacherous would make its way into the lives of all of the decent folk of Middle-Earth had crafted for themselves. Soon, the dark creatures that also inhabited Middle-Earth – some inhabited the northern most part, while other's never made their way from the dark crevices of which they called home – began to take leave their homelands to explore more of Middle-Earth. Some came because they had darkness in their hearts and evilness in their mind, while some of the other dark and horrific creatures only left what they knew to find a new food source. The Men, Elves, Dwarves, Hobbits and Wizards of Middle-Earth had not yet felt the touch of darkness; they had not seen what the darkness could do to their people or to their land. Once these…creatures began to make their way where the peaceful and decent folk lived it was not long before they began to corrupt and desecrate the lands and the people – the darkness consuming almost all that was good and decent about them. Orcs, Trolls, Goblins, Wargs and other unmentionable creatures began to wreak havoc upon the once peaceful lands.
Whilst these atrocious and angry beings began to venture their way down and away from their homelands, they had also brought not only their havoc but their anger, hatred, darkness and their evil. Even the Elves were appalled at such malevolence that came along with these horrific creatures; the evil and darkness affecting not only the people of Middle-Earth, but also the animals of the land, and threes and plants of the forest. They too were able to sense the growing darkness that was only lurking around the corner.
There was only so much that the people could do to ensure that their world stayed as it was – peaceful – no matter how much the Elves, Dwarves, Men, Wizards, and even the Hobbits did, no matter how much they fought for their lands, to keep them safe and free of evil. No matter what they did, no matter how much they prayed to the Valar, to Eru Ilúvatar, to Mahal there was no way to stop the wars and the bloodshed.
~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~ _~_~_~Middle-Earth~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~
"Drifa, this is complete and utter madness," Gandalf, a wise older wizard stated as he gently rubbed at his aching temples and gave an inaudible groan, already he could feel a headache forming, a quite painful one at that. "I do not think that what you are asking of me is a wise choice my dear." He said to her sternly, as he looked down towards the dark haired dwarf-maiden.
Technically speaking, Drifa was not a full-blooded dwarf but rather a half-Dwarf. Drifa's father, Fundin, was full-blooded dwarf and her mother had been a human, but even with her mixed heritage the dwarf blood that flowed through Drifa's veins was strong within her. It was quite plain to see that Drifa took more so after her dwarf side rather than following her mother's human side, almost everything about her screamed dwarf except for the fact she was a bit daintier than her full-blooded dwarven counterparts.
"Do not forget Drifa, that you still have family that resides within these lands." Gandalf pointed out to the young dwarf that was in front of him and mulled over the words that he needed to say in order for Drifa to fully comprehend what it was that she was asking of him, and what she would be sacrificing. "You have friends here, all of whom care for you immensely Drifa. Yet," he said and paused a moment so that he may take a pull from his pipe, blowing a smoke ring in the opposite direction of Drifa. "You are here, requesting for me to send you far away from Middle-Earth. A feat which requires an unbelievably amount of magic to even fathom attempting to do so, and to be honest with you my dear, there is no certainty that I will be able to do what you have asked me." He said to her softly with a small shake of the head. "This is a drastic solution to the pain that you are feeling as of this moment in time; I do not believe that you are in the proper mindset to make such a….drastic decision. This will change your life Drifa; this is a life chancing decision that will not only affect your life, but the life of your small daughter and the lives of all of those who care for you."
The moment those words left Gandalf's lips, Drifa turned towards the wizard quite suddenly and levelled him with the most stubborn and the most tenacious glare that she could possible muster. For but a moment Gandalf could have sworn that the very fires of Mount Doom were upon him with that one simple look from the young dwarf maiden.
"You speak of me not being in the proper mindset," Drifa stated harshly as she narrowed her eyes up at the grey wizard, an unmistakable frown upon her face. "Is that what I am assuming, Gandalf the Grey?" she asked him in an almost mocking tone, a snarl almost coming forth from her lips when she spoke those words. "I have endured much in a very short amount of time Gandalf, and with all that I have thus far experienced I have astonishingly not yet lost my mind to the grief that is always temping me, grief which I am refusing to succumb to." She said wearily, everything that has happened to in the past month…or rather the past few years suddenly weighing her down. Taking a deep, calming breath, Drifa continued on. "After those…horrific events happened to me," she said, her voice trembling for a moment. "I had many weeks to ponder over what had happened to me as I travelled. I had all of that time to decide what exactly my next course of action would be and what would be best for myself, and for my daughter." She said with a tone of finality, turning she gazed at her infant daughter who was but four months old and gave a gentle smile.
Gandalf peered down at the mother and daughter duo with a downcast expression; Drifa was an adult by dwarf standards, but even so she was still considered young in the dwarven society. Drifa was barely in her eighties – a young adult – and she has seen so much in her years that she has graced Middle-Earth; she lost both her parents at a young age, was raised by her brother's, has lost Erebor to the dragon Smaug and had lost her husband to a small pack of Orcs. Drifa never should have had to endure half of what she did…..especially at her age, not yet she shouldn't have.
Drifa had lost her husband in a dreadful way, and she was eyewitness to al that had happened to her husband when the Orcs had attacked them in their small home, and now Drifa was a young single mother who must do all that she was capable of doing to ensure that she was able to raise her daughter right.
There was genuine remorse showing in Gandalf's eyes as he looked at Drifa and her small daughter, they have lost so much without deserving any of it and Drifa's daughter, Brynnhilda, will never have the chance to know her father who had been a loving and caring husband, and a fierce warrior. Even Gandalf had heard of him in his many travels in Middle-Earth, Ragnar had been a well-known dwarf warrior who had fought in King Thror's army.
"You question my state of mind," Drifa stated softly in a calm tone of voice as she looked form her daughter's dark brown eyes and then looked at Gandalf with a hurt expression. "It pains me to realize that you think that I do not know my own mind, but I do understand how you can to this conclusion. There are horrible people in this world Gandalf, and there are even worse creatures roaming about and sadly I have come across both these sorts of people in my life and some quite recently. Somehow though, I have been able to find strength and sheer will to persevere and to continue forward with my life and to raise my daughter." She explained to the wizard and took a deep breath hoping to calm herself down a bit, she has kept so many of her emotions to herself after her husband had been killed that it has been quite a whirlwind talking to Gandalf of these things, and explaining her reason for asking for a favor from him. "You must understand me Gandalf, I cannot heal properly if I am to stay here in Middle-Earth, I simply cannot do it. I once loved this place – Middle-Earth – I loved the people, I loved my home in Erebor, I loved fighting and training alongside my brother's and my Ragnar, I loved the smell of the earth after a rain, I loved being in the caves and I enjoyed living amongst my people. But I can no longer find happiness being surrounded by these things; all of these things remind me of what I have lost, how many people we have lost and," she mourned and took a shaky breath before finishing what she had to say. "And most of all, all of those things reminded me of my Ragnar."
"You will not even attempt to find help in those who care for you?" Gandalf inquired with a raised brow.
At that Drifa sighed heavily as she began to say Brynnhilda in her arms, hoping it would soothe the semi-fussy daughter of her's. "I love my brothers dearly, and those that I think of as friends as well but it is just simply not enough. I truly wish it was enough, but it is not." She explained with a tortured look crawling its way onto her face, all of the memories still biting at her sensitive state of mind. "My brothers, they…..they have acted as father's to me after ours passed when I was but a small child, but I need to leave. This may be my home world Gandalf, but it has hurt me, shed my blood, given me incomprehensible pain and has made me suffer greatly; I cannot stay here any longer. I will not heal as long as I stay on Middle-Earth."
Hearing the severity of those words, Gandalf stood from the log that he had been seated upon and strode a few paces towards Drifa – the two of them were in a rather small and semi-secluded wooded area in Rivendell that overlooked a waterfall as they had this discussion. It may have been a rather peculiar place for a dwarf to be – a dwarf of Erebor at that – but Drifa had willingly come with Gandalf to the home of the Lord Elrond so that she may heal and rest after travelling so long without much rest.
"Drifa, my dear I canno-" Gandalf began to say, extending his arm out towards Drifa as a form of comfort but before he was even able to lay a single finger on her cloth covered shoulder Drifa stood up abruptly and walked angrily towards where there was an opening in the thicket of tree's that seemed to all but surround all of Rivendell.
Shaking her head at Gandalf, Drifa ran her free hand through her dark colored hair and gave a sigh before she gently laid her hand upon her daughter's rosy cheek. "I have cried a river of tears in these last few weeks Gandalf, I have cried and cried and then I had cried even more tears than I had thought I had within me. But, I cannot cry any longer. I thought I had felt the most painful of pains when we had lost Erebor, when the dreadful Smaug had taken our home from us, when we were forced out of our homes and had to wander aimlessly and hoping against hope that someone would help us. I had thought I experienced it when so many of my people…of those who I had seen day in and day out had perished because of that dragon." She said and paused for a moment to get her erratic breathing under control, she was angry and greatly saddened over having to relive so many memories once again, but it was needed in order to get what she thought was best for herself and Brynnhilda.
"I truly felt the worst possible pain though," Drifa began once again. "I felt the truest pain when my Ragnar had been slain, when he was no longer able to be by my side, when I had watched as the life left his eyes and his soul depart from his body. It was then," she said as she quickly wiped a tear away from her eye. "It was then when I truly knew what pain and despair was Gandalf. My soul ached, it cried, it begged to be reunited with my One, with my husband but I could not follow that path no matter how much I wished too. I had to think of Brynn."
Gandalf laid a gentle hand on Drifa's shoulder, and looked at the sleeping child that lay in her arms and then crouched down low to look into Drifa's eyes. "If you are unable to finish this day do not push yourself, we can take time for you to settle your emotions before continuing if that is what you wish for." He said, sympathizing with the young mother.
Drifa adamantly shook her head, "No, I must get through this; I must have you understand my reasoning. Please." She begged him, looking into his eyes silently pleading with the older wizard to wait and listen to what she had to say to him.
Gauging her emotional and mental state, Gandalf stared into her eyes for a few moments before he conceded to her and stood up from the painful crouch he had been in and waited for Drifa to begin speaking once again.
"I love my daughter more than my own life," Drifa began as she smiled down at Brynnhilda, not even bothering to look up at Gandalf, who she was in fact speaking with at the moment. "I love her, but at the same time it hurts because of how much she looks like Ra…like my husband and then I realize that she will never have the chance to know her father. Brynnhilda will never have the opportunity to know her father as the wonderful dwarf I knew him as; the enigmatic, playful, fierce and protective man that I loved with all my being. She deserves to know him, it is not fair on her that she no longer will have a father, that she-"
Stopping herself before she went on about how unfair it was that she had lost her husband, many other dwarves from Erebor had lost those they loved and they were strong enough to continue on in Middle-Earth, but Drifa was not. Closing her eyes, Drifa regained control of her emotions and locked them away so that she may convey why she must leave, and why Gandalf should help her do just that.
"I know you worry Gandalf," Drifa said as she looked deeply into his eyes, hoping he could see how serious and desperate she was about this. "That you think this is just some silly idea that I came up with, but it is not. I know what the consequences of this choice will be Gandalf, I have plenty of time to ponder over what will happen if I am able to go through with this, what I will be giving up….who I will end up leaving behind." She whispered solemnly, she needed to leave but even so it did hurt when she realized she would be leaving a few very important people behind. "I am willing to sacrifice all that I know in order to give my daughter somewhere safe to live and grow up in; some do not realize how much anger, hate and bloodshed is in this world. How we now think of it as something common, that it is normal to have this going about in our everyday lives when it should not be. I will not raise my daughter in a world such as this; she deserves to live in a world where she can travel without fear."
Looking at Drifa intently for a moment, it was almost as if he was studying her being, Gandalf sat himself back onto the log and folded his hands on top of his lap. "What you need my dear, is the support and understanding of those that you trust the most – your friends and your brothers." He said to her simply, being careful to not set the emotional dwarf maiden off too much, she's already gone through so much in her short life and he did not wish to put her into anymore distress than she already as at the moment. "If you were to seek out those whom are closest to you I do believe that you will have the chance to properly heal. It may not feel as such at this precise moment, not this week nor even this year, but with time and much patience you will be able to accept and come to terms with the pain that you are feeling. But you cannot do it alone Drifa, if you try and handle it on your lonesome…." Gandalf trailed off, looking at Drifa with much concern in his eyes. "The only thing you will achieve is driving yourself mad."
Over the many Eon's that Gandalf has wandered the vast lands of Middle-Earth, he has witnessed many, many people come and go. He has seen people rise up from the ashes of their despair and he has seen people fall deeper into the darkness that is enticing those who are vulnerable. People who allow themselves to be so consumed by their depression, their hatred and the unbridled anger that has become an integral part of who they are – the mad sorts. They only care for but one thing, and that was being lost to the will of their madness and misery.
Drifa looked towards Gandalf skeptically; she knew that he was a great wizard that has seen many things in his lifetime and thus has gained great knowledge which many people have taken to heart. Many people throughout the land would heed Gandalf's advice, would take his word as gospel, but Drifa could not agree with him on this subject matter. She knew without a doubt that her brothers and her friends loved her and that they would do all that they could in order to help her overcome her….ordeal so to say, but this was one thing that Drifa did not think that she would ever be able to fully deal with. Day after day Drifa felt so much pain and agony; every night when she closed her eyes all she saw was Ragnar, his bloodied form and lifeless eyes. That is all that she saw and felt day in and day out, and Drifa is unsure if she will ever be right again.
Just as Drifa was opening her mouth to respond she quickly shut it once again when she noticed the loo that the wizard was levelling her with, a look which spoke volumes, a look that told her to keep her mouth shut so that Gandalf may say his piece.
Drifa may be a fierce dwarf maiden who has been in many battles alongside some of the fiercest of dwarves – King Thror and Thrain among the few – but even she knew when it was time to ease up on her stubbornness and listen. She did not wish to hear what Gandalf had to say, but Drifa knew that if she wished to gain the help of the wizard that she must listen to his counter-argument for her wishing to leave. It was the least that she owed him.
"I will neither sully your husband's memory, nor will I say that I understand the pain that I am more than certain that you are feeling, quite honestly Drifa, I cannot even begin to understand what you are going through. I do not, and have not ever had a spouse to call my own, and thus have never experienced the pain and loss as you have." Gandalf said to her gingerly and then steepled his fingers and looked at her with a mournfully for all that she has experienced thus far. "But even so, I have lost those that I have cared a great deal about in the many….years that I have had my feet planted upon this green earth. There has been countless times when I have had the unfortunate fate of witnessing detestable actions and being face first with the results of horrific battles that left but a handful of people who were on the side of good alive." He whispered, closing his eyes Gandalf did his best to try and push all of those horrible memories from the forefront of his mind, things that had no need to be remembered. "No mater all that we have seen and withstood Drifa," Gandalf said with conviction. "We must always be strong, count on our friends and family who we trust unwaveringly, and be strong enough to ask for help from them when it is needed. People – no matter their race – will experience trying times and it is at these times when it is those closest to us who will be able to pull us from the dark recesses of our minds and help us trod on through it. They will help us from acting heedlessly." He finished and sent a knowing look Drifa's way.
With a rather childish huff of annoyance, Drifa narrowed her dark brown eyes at Gandalf for a moment before she turned away from him and opted instead to look over the incredibly vast lands of Rivendell that she was surrounded by. Drifa disliked admitting it but Rivendell was quite beautiful and the elves surprisingly were quite skilled in architecture and were successful in creating such a place that even a dwarf such as herself – who was not overly fond of elves – could appreciate the beauty of it all. To be honest, Drifa would not mind seeing this kingdom one last time before she passed on to the lands of her ancestors – many, many decades from now of course – but the view of the enormous waterfall itself made a good reason to return one day.
Drifa disliked the fact that she could see reason in what Gandalf was telling her; she may be emotionally drained at the moment, and she may still be recalling everything that has happened to her but she still could comprehend what Gandalf was saying. It was plain to see that Gandalf only wished to look out for, and was trying to help her see all that she would be sacrificing if she were to leave Middle-Earth. But on the other hand Gandalf needed to come to his senses and realize that she has thought over everything that he was now pointing out to her, she wasn't daft enough to think that there would be no repercussions…..because quite simply there would be.
"Gandalf," Drifa began and did her best to keep the anger she felt from leaking into her words that she needed to choose carefully when dealing with this rather peculiar wizard, something which was quite trying when it came to Gandalf. "You must, and I mean must try and do your best to comprehend what I am trying to convey to you. It is not that I do not wish to ask for help from my friends and family, but it is simply that they would not be able to help me. I wish for you to understand that it is Middle-Earth itself which has caused me to leave; it is not just the fact that I had lost my home so many years ago, it is not just because I had lost my husband to…to Orcs, nor is it because of the fact that I had watched so many of my own people die from hunger, from depression or were slain in battle. It is all of those things, I will freely admit that but it is also Middle-Earth. Middle-Earth is no longer the wondrous place that I had once thought of it as when I was but a dwarfling." She said and locked eyes with Gandalf as she leaned herself and Brynnhilda up against a large tree, a moment's rest was all it was from all of this talking that was going on.
"Middle-Earth has taken my heart, soul and my blood. I have fought in battles Gandalf, I have seen my own blood spilt onto the ground, I have felt the sting of a blade and I have had to patch up my fellow comrades before. I have had to watch as many people who had grown up with had passed from this world." Drifa stated said as her voice cracked, wiping at her tears she remembered all of the battles and all of the faces of the injured and slain that she has seen in her years. "I no longer think highly of many of the people of Middle-Earth, especially after everything that I have seen whilst living here, nor do I think kindly of Middle-Earth. I no longer will be the person I once was, they took my One away Gandalf. The one person who was made for me has been taken from me and I will never love again Gandalf. No matter who I have helping me to overcome this trying time, to help me deal with what has transpired…..I never will be the dwarf I once was." She stated evenly as she pursed her lips and looked at Gandalf expectantly.
It's been weeks since it happened and still Drifa dreamt of waking in the morn one day and seeing her dear Ragnar alive and well. Drifa wishes to see Ragnar's blonde haired head once again, she wishes to tug on his beard playfully once more, to have an intimate moment of braiding his hair for him, to see his sparkling blue/green colored eyes that twinkled with happiness whenever he caused a bit of mischief among their friends – especially Thorin who he always thought was too serious all of the time.
There were times when Drifa swears that she got a whiff of Ragnar, of his scent that lay beneath all of the sweat, grime and blood from the battles and/or wounds that he may have acquired from said battles. It was a scent that distinguished Ragnar as….well, as him. Drifa had been travelling not too long after she had nearly been raped, and for a moment she could have sworn that she had smelt him and heard his voice whispering in her ear. That had been one of the reasons why Drifa decided that it was high time that she took her leave of Middle-Earth as soon as she possibly could; her mind…it was playing tricks on her and as strong as Drifa has been so far she does not believe herself capable of handling her mind tricking her.
"Drifa-" Gandalf began to say, but before he was even able to utter anything more than her name the said dwarf-maiden turned towards him and gave him a look of absolute determination and resolve.
"I must leave Gandalf, I absolutely must. Please," Drifa said to him with wide, intense dark brown eyes that spoke more than she was ever willing to say to the aged wizard. "I beg of you, please, please help me to leave this…this abhorrent place so that I may be the mother that my daughter deserves to have. Help me leave so that I may heal, so that I can come to terms with what has been done, allow me to have the chance to find myself once again and to be a mother to Brynnhilda." She begged him in an almost manic fashion, desperate to have the wizard help her and her daughter.
Forcefully, Gandalf tore his gaze from the image of seeing how truly broken hearted Drifa was. It was painful to see on as young as Drifa to look so broke and desperate. Inhaling deeply, Gandalf took a moment to just take in the smell of the clean and fresh air of Middle-Earth which helped him put his thoughts in order before he proceeded. He needed to be especially careful when dealing with Drifa, she was a dwarf-maiden and they were just as temperamental, stubborn and fierce as their male counterparts and sometimes even more so.
There wasn't a single doubt in Gandalf's mind that Drifa was being strong mostly for her daughter's sake, she had to be in order to get her as far as she has and in order to still have her mind mostly in tact after all that she has survived. But it seems as if the small grasp that she had on her strength was slowly fraying – she was nearing the end of what she could handle.
"And your bothers? What of then Drifa?" Gandalf questioned her curiously as he lowered his eyes to the small infant Brynnhilda and gave a slight smile at her as she yawned widely – the picture of innocence. "Do Dwalin and Balin not deserve to have a proper explanation as to why their only sister is no longer residing in Middle-Earth?" he asked as he gestured out towards the lush green forest that they were surrounded by, insinuating that he had meant all of Middle-Earth. "You cannot leave without a single word, they are your kin. You cannot simply abound family in such a way as that." He said to her sternly, narrowing his eyes a fraction as he looked deeply into Drifa's eyes hardly being able to believe that she would leave those who she cared for without even a simple farewell.
Drifa gave a pain face when Gandalf had given that remark; the thought of her two brothers finding out that she had left Middle-Earth of her own volition for the unforeseeable future….well that would not be good for any who might be around them at the time and quite simply their reaction would more than likely be quite explosive. It wouldn't be a shock to Drifa if her older brother's, as well as Agertha, Dis, and even Thorin did all that was in their power to ensure that Drifa did not depart from Middle-Earth for some unknown world. No, they would somehow convince her to not go through with her plan. No matter how stubborn or hard-headed Drifa may be she could still be persuaded to do something that she had her mind set on – especially when it came to both Agertha and Dis. It would be hard to leave all she knew behind; her friends and the only family that she still had left, and to leave the lands that she had grown up in. Drifa loved her two brothers Balin and Dwalin, and her two closest friends Agertha and Dis, and she even though of Thorin as another brother but she needed to do what she deemed best for herself and for her daughter Brynnhilda.
To Drifa, Leaving the anger and the darkness of Middle-earth was more than worth what she would have to sacrifice in order to secure her daughter's safety and so that she would have the proper sort of upbringing….the kind where she would not have to fear for her life. Her friends meant more to her than they will ever even realize; they were her confidant's during troublesome and dark times – as a dwarfling and as an adult – but as painful as it was for her to leave her friends as well as her two brothers she had made a hard decision. She had made the decision that if her brothers and friends thought that she and Brynn had died along with Ragnar when the Orcs had attacked that it would be easiest for all who were involved; it would be easier for them to accept, heal from and to move on with their lives…eventually.
"Nothing in this world," Drifa said with conviction as she stared directly into Gandalf's Grey colored eyes. "Will EVER, be able to change the love that I feel for my two brothers; Balin and Dwalin have been there for me throughout the years. I love them dearly for all that they have done for me, for all that they have gone through with me and for standing with me no matter what sort of mistake I may have made, nor how much I had let my temper get away from me, and no matter what sorts of trouble I had managed to get myself into. My brothers have always been there for me when I had need of them. Not once did they abandon me to fend for myself – even when I was in the wrong. Both Dwalin and Balin stood beside me and supported me fully." Drifa said to Gandalf fiercely, and perhaps realized for the first time how much she had counted n and leaned on her brothers throughout the decades.
Drifa loved her brothers with all of her being; any person with half a mind could attest to that simple fact. No one could dispute, nor would they try to dispute the love that Drifa felt for Balin and Dwalin. Neither would anyone try to do so for the love that Dwalin and Balin felt for their younger sister. When Drifa cared for someone she cared for them deeply and fiercely, and nothing but the greatest of atrocities could cause her to break the love and the loyalty that she felt for someone. Balin and Dwalin did not always realize exactly how much they have truly done for Drifa over the many decades, the two brothers had basically raised Drifa when their father had passed into the land of their ancestors when Drifa was but a young dwarfling child. Though Drifa appreciated all that her brothers have done for her and she loved them immensely for that, it simply was not enough to keep her in Middle-Earth. The thought of her staying here any longer than was needed….well it brought a sickness to her stomach and a desperate need to escape as soon as possible.
Taking a deep breath Drifa looked lovingly at her daughter – the only time when she actually felt at peace for more than a moment – and gently ran her fingers over her infant's tufts of blonde hair. "I know that this may make me sound like a rather cold and horrible person but I truly believe that if anyone will have the strength and will to overcome this….unfortunate situation, then it is my brothers. Balin and Dwalin will somehow find the courage, the strength and the sheer will in order to get on with their lives after mine and Brynnhilda's 'deaths' so to say." She uttered so quietly that Gandalf was almost unable to catch what she had said.
The dwarves were a secretive race, they did not allow outsiders to know of them all that often and only would trust outsiders who they had deemed worthy or trustworthy enough and that was only but a handful of people. There had been a time in Gandalf's life when he had gained the trust of one group of dwarves but that was nearly four hundred years ago and it took years upon years to finally gain their full trust – and lots of alcohol. But even if it has been more than a couple hundred years since he had last feasted dwarves who welcomed him with open arms, he still could recall what he learned and knew that Drifa was not being completely truthful with herself.
It was easy to see that Drifa was trying her best to hide how truly frightened and worried she was, and how completely disheartened she was and was instead putting on a strong front. Drifa truly cared for her brothers, she cared so much for them that she would rather them think she dead so that they at least had a chance to get over her leaving rather than giving them false hope by telling them that she left for a world and have them hoping and praying for her to return someday. If Drifa knew her brothers well she was more than certain that they would do that until their last breath. It was best that they thought her dead, that they thought that she and Brynnhilda had died.
"You mean that they will be able to go one with their lives and accept yours and Brynnhilda's death the same way that you have been able to accept your husband's death?" he pointed out purposely, albeit a bit cruelly but it needed to be done in order for Drifa to see both sides of the coin and to understand exactly how many lives she would be affecting if she went through with her decision.
Drifa could not help but reel back in shock when Gandalf had said those rather cold words to her, taking a few steps back and away from the aging wizard she bit her bottom lip and stared at him unbelievably. Hearing those words being said aloud brought pain to Drifa; it had felt as if a jagged edged dagger had suddenly been shoved repeatedly into her chest without any reprieve. Deep within her mind Drifa knew that Gandalf was speaking the truth and that she was being rather hypocritical at the moment by saying that her brothers would be able to move on with their lives, but she needed to believe that they would be able to move on and continue living their lives. If Drifa did not believe that little lie that she was telling herself she never would be able to leave Middle-Earth.
Taking a moment to recover from the feeling of complete and utterly debilitating emotional pain, Drifa took a long and deep breath before she acknowledged what Gandalf had said to her. "That is vastly different than losing a husband Gandalf! And you know this." She said to him angrily, narrowing her eyes at the wizard and sending him an icy glare that would scare the hair off of the braves of dwarven warriors. "The Orcs were cruel Gandalf, they did not just decide to kill us and be done with it. No, they had decided that they wanted to play with us and make us suffer a bit before they killed us. They wanted us to feel helpless and worthless before they-" Drifa paused a moment when her daughter began to fuss in her arms a bit, more than likely able to hear and feel the anger that was coursing through her mother at the moment. "Shhh Brynn, all is well. Go to sleep my darling." She said soothingly to her daughter and rocked her a bit before she looked back at Gandalf.
"Do you know what is was like to be forced to watch as the Orcs – the bastards – tortured my husband….my One? Do you?" Drifa asked in a quiet yet harsh voice, so to not upset her daughter once again. "It was beyond painful Gandalf, it was horrific to have to watch them do…do those things to him and to have to watch as he slowly lost his strength and his bravery that our kind were known for. Do you realize that it was heartbreaking to see my strong warrior husband become a dwarf who only wished for death after all they had done to him. He held on till almost the very end, he had done his people proud by fighting until he no longer could fight and by being his stubborn self. I will not go into the grisly details of what all they did….but it is not something that I wish on anyone else. Those…beasts did not even have the decency to allow me to turn from the sight of them torturing my brave Ragnar. Instead, the Orcs had laughed at me and forced me to watch."
At that Gandalf closed his eyes in remorse for all that Drifa has endured in such a short period of time, as much as he wished to tell her that he was sorry he knew that she would not accept the words at this time. "Drifa I-"
Before Gandalf even had the chance to say anything else, Drifa continued on with her tale. "I watched as my wonderful, strong and unbelievably beautiful Ragnar took his last breath from this world. I had to watch as the light left his serene blue eyes and joined our ancestors who have passed from this world to the next." She said as she felt tears beginning to form in her eyes but she did the best she could to blink them away before they had the chance to fall down her face, she simply could not break now, she must finish recounting to Gandalf what had happened. "Ra…Ragnar had taken two down with him before...before they ended his life. I would have been grateful if that had been the end of my troubles, but it was not Gandalf, it was far from being the end of my troubles in fact. The Orcs spoke of killing me and Brynn next – eating us alive." She said and gave a disgusted look at how the Orcs had looked at them….as if they were a tasty delicacy. "After all that I had witnessed; them torturing my husband, taunting him and making him suffer until they finally had killed him. It was after all of that that I then had to somehow muster up all of the courage and strength that I possibly could and then defend myself and Brynn from these vile creatures that now wanted to kill us as well."
Gandalf wished that there was something that he could say or do that would help soothe the young dwarf mother from the emotional pain that she was feeling at the moment but he knew that now was not the time for comforting actions, right now Drifa needed to get this all out without any interruptions if at all possible. And he would honor her silent request and do what he could to listen without trying to comfort her, she did not want comfort but someone to listen.
Pausing, Drifa did her best to purge her mind of all of the frightening memories and continued on, it was hard to speak of these things but it needed to be done in order for Gandalf to understand why she must leave this dreadful place….this place full of beastly things that only wished to consume and kill you. "But then, as I was travelling, I had naught an idea of where I may be heading towards, or where I should even aim to go to. The only thought that my mind was consumed by was that I needed to get as far away from where my husband had been killed as fast as I possibly could. I know that I should have headed towards, or headed to one of the other dwarven homes that were less than a half and an hour walking distance but I did not. And because of that, I nearly paid a deadly price." She said darkly and shook her head in disappointment at herself.
She should have been careful that day, especially after all that had happened but Drifa had been in emotional distress and was not all there in the head at the time when 'it' had happened. The only thing that had been on her mind at the time was to get as far away from the place that was only filled with bad and dark memories, and taking care of Brynnhilda. She should have been cautious, she should have been paying attention to her surroundings, and she should have been vigilant as Dwalin had taught her to be but she was not.
"I was foolish. I was attacked – again." She deadpanned and then looked intently into Gandalf's eyes. "I was attacked by the Wild Men; they had attempted to rape me even after they had seen Brynn with me. But they did not care if there was a child in my care, the only thing that they cared about was taking that which was not theirs for the taking. Those….men, if you can even call them that, thought that because I was a dwarf, and a dwarf woman travelling alone with a child that I would be an easy target. They were wrong though, and they had soon realized how deadly their mistake was. I killed them and I made sure that they regretted ever even considering the idea of attacking and attempting to rape me. I made them regret every moment of their lives before they had passed into the land of their forefathers. They had asked me to give them mercy; they had cried and cried and cried for me to spare them and to give their undeserving despicable selves mercy. But that was something that I did not and would not have given them, they did not deserve mercy and I am more than positive that I was probably not their first victim of such actions. Let the Valar decide if they are worthy of mercy, let their forefathers decide if they should be forgiven for such heinous actions as theirs." She sneered; in her mind rapist were the worst of the worst of people who lived in Middle-Earth.
"Drifa," Gandalf began in a tender tone of voice. "Nothing that I eve say will be able to truly convey just how remorseful I am for all that you have endured and all that you have lost." He declared to her, wanting her to realize that he is not just saying that but he truly meant all that he was saying.
It did not take a wizard such as himself to see within but moments of meeting Drifa that she has experienced more than her fair share of pain and suffering – her eyes alone had held much agony and heartbreak when Gandalf had looked into them. When Drifa had approached him and had told him that she needed to speak with him, and that she had needed a favor from him he did not think that it would be a favor such as this. At first meeting Gandalf had thought she was a young dwarf-maiden who had seen something bad, but he did not imagine that it would be anything close to what she had told him. He had not expected to hear Drifa speak of the torture and murder of her husband, and he definitely had not expected to hear of her almost rape at the hands of the Wild Men.
Taking a moment, Drifa stared off into the woods of Rivendell and thought of when she had finally managed to track Gandalf down. When she had found Gandalf he was wandering around all the lands of Middle-earth – as wizards often do – and Drifa had felt hope for the first time since her husband had been brutally killed in their small home. At the time she had thought 'here…here was a powerful and renowned wizard who could help her, who would listen to her plight and be able to send her far away from this world' she thought that all of her wishes were finally going to be answered. Now though, now that Drifa has had time to rest and has time to get to know Gandalf she is now rethinking her first impression of the wizard. Gandalf had brought her to Rivendell after she had found him, and at first she had adamantly refused but he spoke of the safety that was there and that there was a warm bed for herself and her daughter…..and that was where he convinced her to join him in Rivendell. But it seemed as if Gandalf did not wish to help her in her light, and that realization has brought feelings of despair and hopelessness to Drifa's mind, the thought that she would have to be stuck in a world such as this did not settle well with her. If Gandalf would not help her then Drifa will find someone else who is willing to help, no matter what the cost would be.
"Do you now understand Gandalf? Do you?" Drifa questioned desperately as she looked at Gandalf with a dead serious expression on her face and carefully grasped Brynn to her a bit tighter, as if she was afraid that her daughter would be the next one to be taken away from her. "Have you comprehended my reasoning now Gandalf? Do you now know why I am so desperate to leave this place that I had once thought of as a home? If you can even call it a home any longer," she spat out bitterly with a scowl upon her face. "This world is filled to the brim with evil and darkness; these things are just lurking within the cover of the woods and waiting for the perfect time to consume all that live in this world. I remember hearing stories when I was but a child, in those stories that I heard I learned of a different Middle-Earth than the one I had grown up in. I had been told of a time when Middle-Earth had been a land of good and true people, but it has been lost because people were overtaken by the gloom and the darkness that has tainted them." She paused a moment so that she could gently hum to Brynn who was started to get fussy again from how animatedly Drifa was talking to Gandalf.
"The people," Drifa started, in a much more subdued and softer tone of voice. "The animals and even the woods are beginning to show that corruption Gandalf, corruption and darkness that is just sitting in wait at the moment. It was this darkness that had consumed my King and brought him to complete madness, and it was this darkness that had propelled Smaug into attacking Erebor – my true home." She ended passionately, determination and life sparkling in her dark eyes for the first time since Gandalf had met her.
Gandalf thought of correcting Drifa on Thror, the former king of Erebor, and how he had ended up losing his mind but had ultimately decided of such actions as that. Drifa was a dwarf, and dwarves were known for being incredibly stubborn and for being unwaveringly loyal, and so Gandalf doubted that Drifa would have taken too kindly to him telling her of Thror and what had ultimately been his demise. Of telling her that Thror had been lost to madness not because of the darkness that was blanketing many of the lands in Middle-Earth, but because of the fact that he had gold sickness and decided to horde it as if it was the only thing that had allowed him to breathe clearly. As if he could not survive with the gold that he claimed as his.
"I have lost so much Gandalf," Drifa said with a tired tone of voice as she looked to Gandalf; she was exhausted from always fighting and losing those she loved, she was so tired from everything and wish this forsaken land was no longer in existence it has caused so much pain. "I am by no means a young sapling of a dwarf any longer, but I am undoubtedly not old….at least not by dwarven standards. I have seen bloodshed, the destruction of the home where I had been born, suffering and death because the Mirkwood elves would not give aide to my people, I have seen absolute evil that I had thought only existed in stories of old – tales of Melkor. But I was mistaken," she stated closing her eyes and giving a pained shake of her head over all that she, as well as her people have been forced to go through. "After all that I have seen and been through, do I not have a good reason for asking of this from you? Is it not reasonable to ask to leave Middle-earth?" she questioned, her dark eyes boring into Gandalf's light colored ones with an unreadable expression. "Please Gandalf…please, I beg of you to grant me this one favor. Do not refuse me this, please." She ended softly, begging him to help her and to deliver her away from this dreadful world that she was born into.
Turning from Drifa and her forlorn stare, Gandalf instead looked out towards the wilderness that was a part of Rivendell and gave a heavy sigh at the fact that he seemed to be at a crossroads of sorts at the precise moment. Gandalf has always been willing to lend a helping hand to those who were in need of assistance and if he had the power he would aide them, but Gandalf was uncertain as to how he should proceed with Drifa's…..unusual request. Gandalf wished with all of his magical being that he could give in to what Drifa was asking from him, that he could grant her request and take her and her daughter far away from Middle-Earth so that she may live out the rest of her days with her daughter, but it did not settle well with him. Gandalf had quite the hard decision to make; on one hand he could see the complete and unbridled agony that Drifa was in but he also feared that if he were to agree to the young maiden's 'simple' request that she would ultimately grow to regret her that choice which she had foolishly made in a moment of emotional distress.
At the moment Drifa may feel nothing but resentment, anger, and fear towards Middle-Earth because of all that she has withstood – her father being killed in battle when she was but a small child, losing Erebor to a dragon, wandering the lands with her people without a home to call their own, and her husband's murder – but nonetheless, Middle-Earth is Drifa's home. No matter how many years pass, no matter how many times she may say that she does not wish to have anything to do with Middle-Earth, it will always be a part of her. As time passed by, Drifa would eventually grow to miss the sights of the lush green grasses of Middle-Earth, of the abundant fields of flowers and crops that were scattered throughout the many lands, and she would miss the deep caverns and mines of her people. And lastly, Drifa would miss her family and those whom she considered friend.
"Drifa, I-" Gandalf began to say but he and Drifa were interrupted from a sudden noise coming from within the woods that that they were surrounded by at the moment.
~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~ Author's Note ~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~
Thank you all for surviving my first revised chapter of my original story, I appreciate you doing that and hope to receive some reviews from you all!
Quotes:
"After all, how many of us had tried to forget something traumatic...only to find it printed on the back of our eyelids, tattooed on our tongues?"
― Jodi Picoult, Change of Heart
"If pain must come, may it come quickly. Because I have a life to live, and I need to live it in the best way possible. If he has to make a choice, may he make it now. Then I will either wait for him or forget him."
― Paulo Coelho, By the River Piedra I Sat Down and Wept