Of Mountains and Woodlands
Nymphs: Nymphs of the Wild Wood are wonderful and magical creatures. The height of just above a hobbit and just below a dwarf, build of an Elf and looks of a human, though a distinct trade was of a tattoo drawn as a vine that wrapped itself around their bodies. It was said they were able to walk as light as a feather on the surface of the water and climb the tallest mountains with ease, disappear as quickly as they would appear, not speak before thinking…but above all, it was a myth mind you, they were magic with fire dancing.
But Nymphs are a long forgotten, ancient and humble race. It was said they died out many years before the coming of the 3rd age. They were one of the oldest races Middle Earth had seen and were once the most respected until one day, the race of man came to realise the potential men had and tried to take lands and woods, valleys and rivers and claim them as theirs. It started a great strife for many years between all living things in the world. Men, Elves, Dwarves and, of course, Nymphs met in a battle for equity and peace, ironic though it was, it worked. Peace came, all was well. But the race of Nymphs was not the strongest of warriors and so was driven back into the depths of the Wood, once known as Lyneil. The 2nd Age began, Lyneil lost its charm and Nymphs became scarcer and scarcer until one day, it was rumoured that they no longer existed. The Wood of Lyneil lost its name and due to unfamiliar sounds and disappearances it became known as the Wild Wood.
The Wild Wood had strange goings on: tales of the Ghosts of Bark began to resurface, rumours of beings in the trees: Children of the Faun. The Wood; was coming to life again. Now, a wizard, Gandalf; had caught wind of such tales and so went about finding the truth while in the meantime, Thorin Oakenshield planned to reclaim Erebor; the ancient dwarf city of old. Yes, Gandalf made plans with Thorin and his Kin and so the adventure was set to go. Arriving at Bilbo Baggins' house, all things began to unfold.
"I'm not burglar. I've never stolen anything in my life," Bilbo Baggins stated self-righteously over Thorin's shoulder.
"I fear Mr Baggins is right," Balin commented thoughtfully, "He's hardly burglar material,"
"Aye, the world is no place for those soft o' heart and weak o' limb," Dwalin growled from beneath his beard. Bilbo stood in the background nodding away in agreement at every ounce of discouragement. Bilbo had made up his mind the moment Gandalf had mentioned adventure: he was not going. Comments started being chucked around the table like a balloon might have been hit from one child to another, all with regards to Bilbo's inability to burgle anything, they were all exceedingly unhelpful. Bilbo was just fine until Gandalf had had enough, the lights dimmed and the atmosphere darkened as he stood up, his tall figure looming over the dwarves as an inescapable giant.
"I said Bilbo Baggins is a burglar, and if I say he is a burglar, then a burglar he is!" he calmed down, and sat once more as the dwarves looked taken aback and Bilbo shook in his trousers.
"Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet," Gandalf insistently continued, "And I think he has a lot more to offer than any of you know. Including himself,"
It took a moment for it sink in as all eyes were still widely set up on Gandalf, but sure enough one by one each dwarf seemed to nod until at last Thorin spoke,
"Give him the contract," he got it from Balin and shoved into Bilbo's chest.
"Do you have another of those contracts?" Gandalf asked Thorin as Bilbo set about reading through the old, stained piece of scripture. Thorin looked at him through narrowed eyes,
"Why?"
"Because we have another member soon to arrive," Gandalf's reply was rather matter of fact and left Thorin in a state of confusion,
"I only asked you for one more,"
"Yes, well, you seemed rather unimpressed by Mr Baggins here, so mayhap she will make a better companion,"
"What do you mean 'she'?" Thorin followed him through to the front door, stepping over Bilbo's fallen body and left the others to go about attending to Bilbo's comfort.
"You found me a woman," he said bluntly. Even more unimpressed than when he first arrived,
"No," Gandalf laid a hand on the little round door handle, "I found you better,"
And he opened the door to reveal a small, humanoid creature that made it to the height of Thorin's nose, slim though not tiny. She had human face with a scar that rounded below her left eye, her eyes being a beautiful turquoise colour, high cheek bones and a soft jaw. She came with a little bag that swung about her neck and rested on her right hip and a sword and scabbard that rested on the other. A soft, white cotton shirt covered her shoulders and upper body while an earthly coloured pair of light boots accompanied rusty pants. Her hands were bound in some sort of leather up to the elbow where it met the shirt. There was a hint of some severe scarring there too. All in all, she was not beautiful but she had an interesting face and a calm composure. She smiled as Gandalf stepped aside to let her in.
"Thorin Oakenshield, this is Maya of the Wild Wood. Daughter of Maein, Lord of the Undergrowth,"
"You're a Nymph!" Thorin stared at her incredulously, disbelief all over his face. The comment somehow caught the ears of all who were there and before he knew it, the whole company was about him, pushing, shoving, gasping and gaping. Bilbo in his dazed state managed to make an appearance himself.
"Yes, if you must know," Gandalf frowned and put his hands on hips, "But I'm sure she would prefer her name if you would be so obliging,"
Thorin did not answer but rather bowed his apology,
"At your service; however, I wasn't aware of your race still being part of the world,"
Maya gazed at him though inquisitive eyes,
"You're not the only one. We chose a quiet life,"
Gandalf was satisfied with that and so continued on his introduction.
"Maya, meet Bifur, Bofur, Bombur, Oin, Gloin, Balin, Dwalin, Fili, Kili, Dori, Ori and Nori. And of course, Mr Baggins," Once he had finished, Gandalf looked rather pleased with himself. Maya greeted them all with a shy nod but it was an in-awe-Bilbo she turned her attention to,
"Bilbo Baggins," her voice was melodic and flowed from her lips, "I've heard much about you,"
"Oh, well," he shuffled his feet nervously, trying to regain his composure after being shocked by the presence of such a myth in his own home, "What exactly have you heard?"
"Many things," she smiled, her scar crinkling up closer to her eye, "Quite the adventurer,"
"No," Bilbo lifted his shoulders apologetically, "Unfortunately you have been misinformed,"
She cocked her head,
"I don't believe that. I heard it from Gandalf; I can only assume he speaks the truth,"
"Of course you heard it from him," he snorted, "Look, I'm sorry, Gandalf,"
All eyes drifted from him back to Gandalf whose frown had returned.
"But," Bilbo continued, "I'm not your Hobbit,"
"But you are,"
It wasn't Gandalf, who spoke. Bilbo turned with everyone else to Maya,
"You just haven't tried yet," Maya looked at him encouragingly, so much so that Bilbo felt a wee twang to say "Fine" on the spot. He resisted it however,
"I can't, Maya. I'm not a Took and I'm not a burglar. I'm a Baggins, of Bag End. I'm a resp - people expect things of me,"
"Well that's no way to view such a situation. Tell me Mr Baggins, what's your favourite story?" Maya enquired, seemingly innocently. Bilbo hesitated for a moment before answering,
"The story of my great, great, grandfather; he charged into battle and supposedly killed the great Goblin king,"
Bilbo smiled a small smile at the memory of sitting on the floor by the hearth while his grandfather would tell him those stories. That was always his favourite, but he failed to see the point,
"Why do you ask?"
"Well, where did the story come from?"
"Well, my great, great Grandfather?" Bilbo narrowed his eyes, feeling more and more as if he were walking into a trap. That or they really were silly ignorant questions with blatant answers serving no purpose what so ever.
"Right, so how do you think that story came to be?" She raised an eyebrow at him. Bilbo stared back at her, the point slowly dawning on him and he glanced down, unwilling to answer.
"He took a step out the front door, Mr Baggins. That's how all great stories come to be,"
"Indeed. You'll have one or two good stories to tell of your own when you come back," Gandalf tilted his head, emphasising the tone of excitement and mystery.
"Can you guarantee that I will come back?" Bilbo asked hesitantly.
"No," Gandalf shook his head, "But if you do, you will not be the same,"
But the Hobbit had had enough.
"See that's what I'm afraid of. I'm sorry, I just can't. It's been wonderful meeting you all. Good night,"
And he made his way through the crowd of Dwarves, not one making a sound; he made quick eye contact with Thorin who easily stared him down.
"Now that we've lost our burglar," He stated once Bilbo had gone, "What exactly do we plan to do now?"
"Well, carry on, I suppose," Gandalf replied,
"What?" Bofur retorted, "Without our burglar?! We don't stand a chance against Smaug!"
The company started to retort back all at once but Thorin's deep voice raised high above the others, silencing all those that dared challenge him,
"Be silent! We will do this with or without our burglar and might I add, we have Miss Maya. All is not lost, not yet," he turned to Gandalf and Maya, "We leave at first light. Baggins or no, we go. Agreed?"
It was more a statement than an actual offer of truce. Gandalf only nodded in acknowledgment. Maya caught Thorn's eye, his steal, blue eyes diving deep into her depths. Reading, assessing.
The night ended around the fire in the living room as the Song of the Misty Mountains wafted through the small Hobbit hole, nestling in every nook and cranny and left its haunting residue to linger at the back of Bilbo Baggins' head as he dreamed.
Maya's heart was racing, one too many a time had she caught the unwavering stare of the Dwarf King: reading; assessing. All was to unfold.