Chapter 2: Old Acquaintances
The harsh light of the mid-day sun forced her closed eyes open again. Braerka lay half asleep of the branch of an old oak, waking from a short nap. She had taken well to her life in the wilds of middle-earth and loved especially to be among the trees of the forests. The elves of Lothorien and Greenwood had taken to calling her 'The Shepherd of the Forests', as she spent so much of her time in them.
She lay there with the vastness of the Ettenmoors behind her, a light breeze was billowing past her, she messed with the blue crystal at the end of the chain around her neck, and she remembered her brawl with those men in the tavern the night before. She smiled at the memory. She had found out the man leading the group went by the name of Karsen and was known for his forward and unforgiving nature, he was also the leader of a notorious group of bandits called The Black Eyes.
The name came from the masks they wore on raids, jet black with no holes for their eyes, it was said to be unnerving to look at. Their most notorious member called 'Dead Shot' was a crack-shot with a bow and arrow; he always aimed for the head, particularly the eyes. He never missed. It was because of him that they were well-known throughout most of middle-earth.
"You had better watch yourself lass, they'll be coming after you, ya know!" the old drunk outside the tavern had told her. Braerka had laughed into herself on hearing this, she wasn't worried. Karsen could barely stand after his small encounter with her, if the rest were as 'well-trained' as him, they'd be no problem for her, the dead-shot guy however was slightly concerning, but if the 'blacks eyes' were smart they would do best to avoid her altogether in future.
She let her mind wander from that to the task at hand. Not two days ago, had she been handed a new contract by the assassin leader in Bree, Kembal, and she was not looking forward to completing the task, when she had read the name of her target, her heart had dropped and all had seemed to stop for her. Her target was none-other than Thorin Oakenshield.
"I will not kill him Kembal, not without good reason!" she had told him.
"You must, otherwise your life is forfeit!" he had warned her, pushing the contract into her hands. "The words of our canon state that we must complete all contracts given to us"
"Then give it to someone else!" she retorted, throwing the contract in his face, it fell to the ground.
"It has to be you…" Kembal shouted to her as she stormed away. She stopped, turned and regarded him with sharp eyes, he bent over to retrieve the contract, "…you are the desired assassin for this task. Only you can take his life."
She had looked at him then, with livid discerning eyes and disbelief written over her face. "Who made the request?"
He did not say, he only handed her the parchment, she scanned down to where the person's name should be… it was blank. She sighed deeply, nodded to him and walked away the contract in hand, she had no desire to kill an old friend, worse yet a former father figure, but she would see it done, one way or another, or be killed herself.
She was pulled from her inner turmoil by a loud bunch of travellers astride ponies. Bunch was a weak word to use, there was fifteen of them, the most noticeable being an old man, with a tall, grey pointed hat and a beard to match. They were chatting amongst themselves, and very loudly at that. She eyed those of the group she could see from the angle she sat at, deciding whether or not to make herself known to them. She decided against it. She sat on the strong branch of the oak, listening to their inane babble, picking up a few words here and there.
She watched them pass, and when they had moved a fair distance from her, she leaped into action, once again slipping her satchel over her shoulder and letting her bow join it. She ran along the strong branches of the trees, smoothly leaping from one to the next, swinging to some adjacent branches. She was quick and quiet and soon caught up to them. As long as they stayed near to the treeline she could follow them easily.
She sped up a few more trees to get in front of the group. She almost fell from the tree when saw who was leading them.
"Thorin?!" she hissed under her breath. He looked up in her direction as though he had heard her; she shrunk back into the foliage of the tree, avoiding his gaze. He looked old, tired but at the same time determined, set on his goal and as driven as she remembered him.
'No! It can't be!' she was in shock, how was it that the very person she was to kill had showed up in the very place she had went to avoid him? Maybe it was meant to be, was supposed to happen this way, maybe it was fate at work. She calmed herself when she realised she was getting ahead of herself, 'it's just a coincidence!' she convinced herself.
He set his eyes front again and she leaned forward to get a better look at the rest of the company. Her racing heart was slowing to its regular beat and her rugged breathing stabilised. She recognised a few other faces among the group, namely Balin and Dwalin, the rest were a mystery to her. She looked them up and down taking in every detail of their appearance.
As she scanned the long line of dwarves and saw too rather young ones lagging behind the rest. They were clearly sharing a private joke otherwise they would have been louder she guessed. The blonde one laughed rather loudly when the brunette had finished whispering into his ear. The brunette leaned back, upright on his pony, 'wow! He's…No! Stop Braerka! Don't think that!' her conscience yelled at her. She was completely blown away by him; her heart had probably skipped a few beats. He was young and handsome and ever so slightly resembled a younger Thorin, although his features were softer and he had no substantial beard to speak of.
He smiled at the other dwarf's reaction. His grin spread from cheek to cheek and before he knew he was laughing along with the blonde. Braerka had to admit their laughing was infectious; she had to put a gloved hand over her mouth to stop herself from bursting out. They stopped abruptly when Thorin called to them, "Fili, Kili! Keep up!", "Yes Uncle!" the blonde replied. They spurred their ponies onward, still sniggering quietly, and caught up to the group. 'Fili and Kili… must be brothers' she thought, 'who's who I wonder?'
She got up and continued along the rows of trees gaining a few feet of distance ahead of them. She watched them pass again, this time she focused on the old man with the grey pointy hat. A mature looking hobbit rode beside him; he looked most uncomfortable on the pony and was constantly shifting about on the saddle.
The hobbit, looked around himself, in awe of the mountains, he turned to the old man and began, "So… Where are we now exactly?"
The old man looked over to him and answered, "Well, you are full of questions today, aren't you Bilbo?", 'so the hobbits name is Bilbo' she noted.
"Well those mountains are the Ettenmoors, we're in what they used to call the Troll-Fells, we're still some way off the misty mountains though" continued the man.
"Um… trolls?" said Bilbo, worried by the mention of the not so friendly beasts.
"Don't worry, there hasn't been a troll in these parts for an age!" the elderly man assured him. The hobbit looked convinced.
"Right, so, when we get to the misty mountains and beyond, find this hidden door or whatever, what then?"
"That I do not know, dear Bilbo, we will have to wait and see, won't we?"
The hobbit didn't look satisfied with the answer but he nodded, accepting the uncertainty of the journey ahead. Bilbo seemed a nice enough fellow but not the sort to travel much, he looked inexperienced and unsure of where he was and his question had proved it, this hobbit was new to travel.
They passed her for a second time, her eyes once again drawn to the two at the back, particularly the brunette. She shook her head, 'Stop it! Not the time or the place!' she scolded.
She continued along the branches again, they pulled into an alcove of sorts, it was an open grassy area, and a farmhouse lay at its centre in ruins. They dismounted their ponies and began to set up a camp.
"We'll camp here tonight!" Thorin announced to the others.
"I think it would be wiser to move on, we should make for the hidden valley!" stated the old man.
Thorin moved up into the farmhouse mumbling something, the old man turned and joined him, they were now out of earshot, and she had no idea what they were saying. But from the look on their faces it wasn't good. 'Shoot!' she groaned under her breath, she tried to move forward as much as possible to hear without being seen, but the branch she was nested on began to give way.
On hearing the loud cracking of the snapping wood she climbed higher up into the tree and jumped to the next one across. Just as she pushed herself up the branch gave way and fell to the ground, a few members of the company looked over at the fallen branch. One with a droopy moustache and a floppy hat approached it and looked up at the tree she had been in moments ago.
"That's odd!" he said.
"Aye, strange indeed" agreed Dwalin.
Luckily for Braerka neither of them noticed her and they soon lost interest in what has caused it.
'Phew!' she breathed out, 'that was too close!'
As she settled herself on the branch, the old man stormed out of the ruined building, his face fuming with annoyance.
"Everything alright? Gandalf? Where are you going?" asked the hobbit, clearly distraught at being left alone with the dwarves. 'Gandalf! The Grey! The Wandering Wizard?! No Way! What's he doing with a group of dwarves and a hobbit?' she thought astonished, she had heard many things about the great wizard but had never thought him one for dealing with dwarves, they were a stubborn people after all.
"To seek the company of the only one around here who's got any sense!" the wizard replied, in a grumbling tone, walking up to his horse and mounting swiftly.
"And who's that?" asked Bilbo.
"Myself! Master Baggins!" Gandalf shouted, his calm demeanour from earlier was all but lost in his fury. "I've had enough of dwarves for one day." He continued, so quietly it was almost inaudible.
He trotted away, leaving his fellow travellers at a loss for words. 'What had gotten into him?' Braerka wondered. Her thoughts were soon answered when Thorin came out of the haggard shack, a glowering look on his face. "Come on Bombur were hungry!" he said snidely
As he said it the fattest of the dwarves sprang into action, a built up a fire. He was surprisingly light on his feet for someone so bulky. The rest unpacked or piled up wood for the fire, the branch she had caused to snap among the pile. A few of them settled on the grass and rested.
"Is he coming back?" Bilbo asked Balin, he was concerned for the wizard. Balin's expression was anything but hopeful.
'Where are these guys headed?' she wondered, watching them from the safety of the trees. 'And why so many? What could they possibly need so many for? And why was Gandalf with them? Why do they need a wizard?' She had so many questions and no answers, as of yet.
She watched Thorin wander off back to the ruined farmhouse and stand under what was left of the door frame. This would be her chance to get things over and done with; she balanced herself on the branch and unslung her bow. She took an arrow and drew, inhaling deeply.
"Fili, Kili!" Thorin called, they stood up straighter as he did, "look after the ponies." The brunette looked displeased with the task but accepted his role, just as his brother did. They marched the ponies to an open area near a well, at the other side of their camp. They freed them of their heavy burdens and allowed them to graze on the fresh green pastures.
For a few moments she stared down the shaft at him, weighing her options. She could kill Thorin now, get it over with and continue with her life, or she could wait find out what their purpose was. She had vowed not to kill him knowing it would cost her life; but right now the want to not die was overpowering. She stared at him; he stood watching his company oblivious to her existence. She dropped her stance letting the string on the bow loosen. She would not kill him, the sense of home she got from looking at him was like a whirlwind drawing her in, she couldn't resist.
'I won't kill you… not now, not ever…' she told him silently, 'even if it means death!' She put the arrow back in her quiver and slung her bow over her back. She finally exhaled and felt a wave of relief wash over her. Hopefully it had been the right choice to make.
She listened to them talk of food and how they yearned to be back at Bilbo's home feasting from the many delights he had offered. The hobbit scoffed at them, and then proceeded to tell them it was the first and last time they would ever experience it.
'This isn't going to be very interesting…' she thought, her stomach growled and rumbled in response to the dwarves talk of food. 'Hmm… I think I'll join you in your meal… figuratively speaking of course!'
She quietly snaked her way back along the trees, leaving the dwarves to their business.
Once she had gotten a fair distance from the dwarf's temporary camp, she had descended from the trees. She left her bow against the bough of a great oak and walked several paces forward and set up a snare trap, the then another two nearby.
She retrieved her bow and walked deeper into the forest, she tossed a handful of bait down at the snares as she did. If she didn't catch a single morsel with this lot set up there was something wrong.
The areas surrounding the Ettenmoors, sometime called the Ettendales, was home to all manner of creatures, like deer and rabbits, but best of all… the white wolf.
The white wolf, though rarely found in the surrounding plains of the mountains, was a large wolf much like the gundabad wargs of the north; it was renowned for its tenacious demeanour but had the best fur and skin for fletching. Though their meat was tough and left much to the imagination with taste, it would be a good catch for her; she could get a new coat out of it and not go hungry. She laughed at her mindless optimism, the chances of catching one were slim, but she kept her hopes up.
Braerka had been hunkered down in a nearby bush for several hours, hidden in the undergrowth; it was late afternoon, around 5:30pm. She had her bow readied, an arrow nocked on the string. She sat alone and in silence waiting, ready to shoot. She heard several clicks from a short distance away; her snares had been set off. She turned to check them, 3 brown hares, 'nice' she congratulated herself, not a white wolf but at least now she wouldn't starve.
She sat a short while longer waiting for something else to come along, but nothing did. She resigned the arrow to its quiver, and slung her bow over her shoulder then left her hiding place. She collected the hares, tying them in a bunch by their hind legs. She felt a little sorry for the unwary creatures, earlier they had been hopping about munching on grass only to get caught in her trap and were soon to be eaten, but this was the circle of life, sometimes things like this just happened.
She cut the snare traps off the creatures with her hidden dagger, a trick the elves had taught her, in any event where she was captured or unarmed she would still have a way of fighting back. She returned the small pointed blade to her vambrace.
On hearing a low growling snarl resonate behind her she froze. She slowly turned around her face her adversary, crouched low in the grass behind her almost undetectable in the dimming light of the evening, was a white wolf. 'Stupid!' she scolded herself; she'd forgotten about the trail of bait, it must have attracted the beast.
She smiled at the beauty of the large dog, its thick almost pure white coat swayed softly in the evening breeze, its eyes like black glass marbles stared soulless into hers, despite the hound's innocent appearance she knew all too well its intentions. It had followed the bait trail for one reason, it was hungry and now she was on the menu.
It snarled quietly and crept forward laying its sleek body as close to the ground as possible. Braerka unsheathed her dagger, dropping the hares. As she did she heard another growl to her left, her head spun to meet the cold, emotionless gaze of another wolf.
'Oh crap!' she thought, reluctant to even breathe. She got up off her knees and balanced on her toes, keeping low in the grass. Her eyes finally adjusted to the dim light and she saw that there weren't two or three but four wolves converging on her position. This was a lot more than she had bargained for.
"Oh bugger!" she said aloud, fighting back the urge to slap herself, how could she have been so stupid as to put out too much bait and to not stay silent! She cursed herself over and over in her head, every second she spent doing so allowed the white spectre like creatures to creep closer and closer.
She slowly rose to her feet, and kept half slouched so as to not provoke a pre-emptive strike from her enemies. She started backwards, away from the organised pack in front of her. One growled and barked loudly as she did, it seemed to the alpha, bigger than the rest, whiter too, and giving orders to the lessers.
Braerka's calm outer shell was the only thing preventing her from screaming out for help, she had never dealt with this many wolves before, and never had they been white wolves. As the stories told, they were the worst to be cornered by and those who had encountered them alone never survived to tell the tale.
Braerka let out a deep breath she had been holding and then chose to straighten to her full height; this commenced the full frontal attack. The apparent alpha leaped into the air, bearing its large white teeth like daggers, its strong jaw open wide. The others hurried into action and began circling her; she had nowhere to run.
She ducked and rolled out of the path of the flying alpha and buried her dagger deep into the skull of another unsuspecting wolf, its lifeless body dropped limp to the ground. This act of brutality seemed only to enrage the others more, they were all barking madly, baring their teeth and baying for her blood. Another two ran at her, she kicked one, stalling its inevitable attack, and pulled her bow from her shoulder and whipped the other up the face with it.
Smoothly and at the speed of lightning, almost as if rehearsed, Braerka drew an arrow from her quiver and readied it on the bow; she drew and loosed it on a charging wolf. The arrow darted forward through the air and nested itself deep within the frontal lobes of the wolf, tearing at cerebral tissue as it forced its way deeper through the bone and flesh.
The others stalled in their approach, stunned by this action and unsure of whether to continue their assault. The alpha howled and approached her slowly; the others began to back off. Braerka was still on edge and not about to take any chances, she stood battle ready and prepared for whatever would come next, only she wasn't prepared, not fully.
The alpha sped past her, not even giving her a second glance, she turned a watched it go confused by how easy it had even up, this was her biggest mistake.
The next thing she felt was an excruciating pain shoot through her lower leg and up into her core, she screamed out in agony. 'A distraction! Smart bastards! 'She spun around and whacked the perpetrator full up the side; its bite loosened and it relieved its grip on her leg. The pain eased slightly but not much, she began limping away from the battle ground, swiping at any wolf that came too close, she sped to a run, the adrenaline numbing the pain.
The white demons, now fuelled with a new aggression, came chasing after her, 2 still remained strong and adamant on getting her. She skidded to a stop, turning to stab another wolf that had leaped for her neck, she tossed the body aside.
'1 left!' she exclaimed into herself, running again and not stopping for fear of her life.
She continued to run, even when she heard several loud battle cries from different places in front of her; she saw the light of the fire from the dwarf's camp ahead. 'Oops!' she hadn't meant to come this way, endangering these travellers was the last thing on her mind, but in the confusion she had ran in any direction that had seemed safe.
She ran up and passed a withered looking tree only to have her abdomen meet the flat edge of a steel war hammer, she was flipped head over heels, flew a few feet through the air and landed on her back.
Barely conscious and winded, she tried to get up, but only fell to the ground, her vision blurred as she lost all sensory connection to the world. She heard the pitiful whimpers and yelps of the alpha wolf as it ran for its life, and the swishing of the hammer as it split the air.
She lay on the grassy bank staring at the blurred forest canopy above her, a dark and shadowy figure came into view and loomed over her, and another smaller one appeared beside it.
An all too polite voice began in a whispered tone, "Look what you've done! I told you we should have waited a little longer before charging!"
The tall figure leaned in closer to her, she faintly felt hands griping her waist, "Shut it Ori and help me carry him!" said a rougher more aged voice.
"Um actually, I think it's a woman, Dwalin!" Ori pointed out.
Dwalin sighed angrily, "Just help me Ori!"
The other dwarf complied as the last of consciousness left her body. Braerka felt gentle hands taking hold of her ankles. The last thing she saw was the flickering of the fire nearing from a distance.
A/N: Hey guys, seeing as this is my first fic I'm not expecting major reviews or massive views etc. but I would like to hear your opinions on where YOU think the story should go. Any suspicions, assumptions and ideas are more than welcome.
Anyways, thanks to those who have read so far, I plan to update this every 3-4 days or so, so until then enjoy :)
