Virago: A strong brave or warlike woman; a woman who demonstrates exemplary and heroic qualities.
{001}
Darkness was her constant companion for her captors were trolls, and trolls, as everyone should know, were not fond of the sun. In the depths of the cave she stayed hidden, enshrouded by silence, far away from her captor's hoard and dinners.
She wanted to cry, but Shirin had long past shed all her tears leaving northing more than silent hiccups in their wake.
The days had begun to fade together, each one passing painfully slow into the next until she could no longer distinguish one day from another. Mentally, she berated herself for letting up in the forest to attend to her wounds instead of riding on to the safety of the Shire. Each time she opened her eyes from sleep she hoped to find herself in the comforts of her own bed in Rivendell; surrounded by a pool of light streaming through her open window. Every attempt to wish such a thing into existence was futile. Instead, she awoke to being chained, hungry, and defeated.
At present the trolls were outside bickering, their inane chatter filtering to the back of the cave. They had found something to appease their appetite…or someone. With the Trolls distracted by their stomachs, it afforded her the opportunity to let her mind wander and she let it do so freely to block out the insanity of her captors. Time faded away around her as she imagined herself in the comforts of her home once more. This had become her daily routine.
Beneath closed lids she envisioned herself lying in the warmth of her own bed with the sounds of the valley lulling her into a peaceful sleep. She could still remember the smell of the crisp fall air even amongst the stench of rotting meat. It felt as if it had been years since she had seen her elven home.
"There must be a cave nearby."
Shirin's eyes flew open at the sound of an unfamiliar voice; one that was not a Troll's. She made an attempt to call out from the depth of the cave, but her efforts were hampered by the strip of dirty cloth tied about her mouth.
"What is that stench?"
Several voices rose up after that. Some of them coughing and cursing up a storm at the stench of the cave that Shirin herself had become accustomed to. She pulled at the chain that bound her to wall, but the attempt was futile, it was nigh on impossible to remove.
"It is a Troll hoard, be careful what you touch."
Gandalf. The deep rumble of the Wizard's voice was unmistakable.
"Let's get out of this foul place," a gruff solid voice broke the babble of his companions. "Come on, let's go. Bofur! Gloin! Nori!"
Shirin called out in her mind for them not to leave. Closing her eyes, Shirin clanked her chains against the rock wall of the cave with every ounce of strength she could muster to create as much of a tumult as possible. Pain shot through her already raw wrists and her arms felt as if they would break at any moment. Filling her lungs with air she screamed as loud as she could against the gag praying it would be heard.
"Calm yourself, woman!"
Shirin stilled.
Her eyes opened; revealing a long dark-haired Dwarf with light eyes kneeling before her. He stared at her for a moment, lost in her frightened feral gaze. It was the first time Thorin Oakenshield had ever been caught up in a woman's eyes.
The Dwarf quickly abruptly averted his eyes as he busied himself with her bindings. Her wrists were raw and swollen from the chains. Thorin could tell that she had been a prisoner of the Trolls for no short time. Gently, he removed the bindings from her wrists and then made quick work of the gag about her mouth.
He wasn't sure how much time had passed as the two of them merely sat there looking at one another as if waiting to see what the other would do. Then, without warning, the woman did something Thorin did not expect. She leapt into his arms.
"Thank you."
It was but a hoarse whisper on her lips, barely audible, but he had heard it.
"It seems as if you have found a new friend, Thorin Oakenshield." Gandalf chuckled as he surveyed the scene before him. Thorin responded by rolling his eyes as he peeled off the girl's iron grip from around his neck.
"Gandalf," she looked up and smiled wearily at the Wizard.
"My dear," Gandalf knelt down and offered Shirin his hand. "How ever did you end up here?"
"It seems as if she was a prisoner of our Trolls," Th Dwarf Thorin informed him.
"How unusual," Gandalf murmured, mostly to himself as he helped the young girl to her feet. She was weak, her balance unsteady, even with his assistance.
"Kili!"
At the Dwarf's command another came sprinting in their direction. A forlorn look on his face as he looked back longingly at the hoard of trunks overfilled with gold he would soon be leaving behind. He looked as if he could have been a younger version of Thorin. There was no mistaking the kindship as they both held the same dark hair and light eyes. Shirin saw something in the younger Dwarf, however, that she did not see in Thorin; laughter and youth.
Kili didn't seem to need any orders. With a quick motion he picked her up in his arms as if she weighed nothing and carried her towards the entrance of the cave. Shirin felt silly. The need to be carried in such a way made her feel childish and awkwardly out of place. He didn't seem to mind though; he merely smiled as she set her down in the shade of a tree, giving her the once over as he did.
Her riding clothes were tattered and worn. Her black leggings and white belted tunic looked as if had recently seen battle. Dirt and soot marred her face and her hair was no more than clumps of clay and mud.
He admired her. It was no easy feat to keep oneself alive in the company of Trolls. Gently, he wiped the soot away from her face, his smile lit up when she gave him a grateful smile.
"Thank you for your kindness." She whispered in a way that told him she did not often experience it. Kili shrugged it off as he went to fetch her some water.
"And such is the hidden gentleness of Dwarves."
Shirin looked over at Gandalf who had set himself up comfortably next to her, a pipe in his mouth.
"If you insist on smoking that horrible pipe," Shirin muttered, her disdain for the object obvious. "Please do so away from the forest. The trees are not fond of the smoke."
Gandalf smiled and put the unlit pipe back in his robes.
"Tell me, young one," he asked. "How is that you came to keep company with trolls? I would not have guessed you to be one so easily ensnared by such dimwitted beings."
Shirin sighed, wincing as her ribs groaned in protest against the movement.
"I received your message not long after I left Rivendell on an errand for Lord Elrond." Shirin informed, barely looking up as Thorin came to listen in on her tale. "I saw…" she hesitated on her words. "I…was to inform the Woodland Realm of troubles seen making their way into their borders."
"Troubles?" Gandalf inquired seriously. "What kind of troubles?"
"Creatures have come down from the mountains, Gandalf," she whispered. "Deadly creatures redolent of death and darkness, spinning webs of poison wherever they tread. The forests are feeling it the most."
I went to inform the king of such delivery," She continued. "He did not care for my words and I daresay he will heed them either. I was wounded by one of his bowman so I took rest near the clearing. When I woke, I was chained to the cave and I have been ever since."
"You sent for her?" Thorin broke in. Shirin squinted up at him from her position on the ground. Thorin somehow looked familiar as if she had seen him before; but she could not trace the source.
"Yes," Gandalf stated simply without explanation.
"You made no mention of a woman," Thorin accused. "First the Hobbit and now a woman? Will and Elf be joining our company as well? Perhaps an Orc?"
Gandalf was not amused.
"Stop being so dramatic, Thorin Oakenshield," his voice darkened. "I will choose for this journey who I see fit and if I say we need her, then we need her."
"I will not have a woman compromise our journey," Thorin whispered harshly so the woman would not hear. "She can barely stand; let alone hike for miles in the wilderness to Erabor."
"Shirin has many uses," Gandalf stated calmly.
"Shirin?" Thorin knew that name. "Daughter of Kanaan? You bring a harbinger of darkness into my company? She will bring nothing but death to us. I remember her people, Gandalf. They predict disaster and thus it comes to pass. Her people engender chaos wherever they travel. I will not have that chaos among my men."
"Silence!" Gandalf's presence filled the clearing and it grew abruptly quiet. All eyes were on the bickering pain. Kili looked over at the tree where the girl sat; a small smile gracing his lips when he saw that she was fast asleep, unaware of the turbulence her presence was causing.
"You would do wise to listen to her council," Gandalf hissed darkly. "If you prove yourself, maybe she will grant you absolution for the misdeeds of your grandfather."
"I will not be responsible for her!" Thorin barked stubbornly. Gandalf took a threatening step forward. "Nor the trouble she will bring."
"I will take responsibility for her."
The tension dissipated from the air as Gandalf and Thorin turned to look at the youngest of their company. Kili couldn't say to reason his uncle was set against having the woman accompany them. What he did know is that they certainly could not leave her in the wilderness without the ability to protect herself.
"She is light," He continued undaunted by his uncle's glare. "And not too injured. I believe that after we find a spring for her to bathe in and food for her to eat, she will do no worse than Bilbo."
Gandalf smiled at the young Dwarf.
"So be it," He agreed cheerfully; his earlier foul mood gone. Thorin was about to interject, not happy with the situation at hand, when something began to rustle in the trees drawing his attention away.
"Something's coming," he warned as he drew his sword. The others followed suite. Kili placed himself between the oncoming danger and the girl, ready to take on whatever danger lay ahead.
Thoughts?
