Bejeweled
My thanks to the following:
Echoi5004 (guest): I'm glad you like it ^.^ I'm not good at portraying timid women lols…I had to give her some 'spunk' lols.
Wolveyaon: I tried to keep the pace slower…they haven't even left the shire yet ^.^, but I'm glad you seem to like it anyway.
PadawanCassy: Thank you. I'm happy you enjoyed it so far. I have several little twists in mind for little Belinda ^.^ .
And a big thank you to all who decided to favorite and/or follow this story.
Now onto chapter 2 where the company crosses the Shire and leaves the relative safety of its borders.
Chapter 2
The next morning found the company settled upon ponies and heading across the rolling hills of the shire. Belinda was kept somewhere in the middle of the group of dwarves as most of them felt protective of her. Her pony was penned in by Fili and Kili on either side and the two younger dwarves were keeping up a steady stream of chatter, mainly asking her questions about her life and hobbits in general while insulting each other over her head. After about an hour of listening to them she dropped her pony's reins, reached into her pack for a pair of wooden spoons, and soundly thumped both princes on their heads. The resulting, and rather girly, squeaks from the two set the whole company into an uproar of laughter…even Thorin had a hard time hiding the amused smirk that wanted to curl across his lips. The two princes moved back towards the end of the line, and away from the fiery little she-hobbit. It was a still-smirking Dwalin that came up to ride beside her, giving her a nod of approval as his gruff voice echoed the sentiment.
"I've only ever seen the lads' mother…and Thorin of course, be able to silence them so quickly lass. I think ye'll do just fine in the company…just keep those spoons handy when the lads are around."
His deep chuckles echoed as he headed up the line towards Thorin and Balin. Gandalf, despite being at the very front of the line, was able to hear nearly everything and was most amused by Belinda. She clearly took after her mother more than he could have hoped.
Several hours later the boisterous mood of the company took a nose-dive as the heavens opened up and drenched them all in a heavy downpour. Belinda wasn't faring too badly, being a hobbit she was used to the Shire's weather patterns, but the dwarves appeared to be quite miserable. Dori was the first one to actually speak out about it.
"Here, Mr. Gandalf. Can't you do something about this deluge?"
The wizard's response sounded half amused and half exasperated.
"It is raining master dwarf, and it will continue to rain until the rain is done. If you want to change the weather of the world you should find yourself another wizard."
Belinda, seeing an opportunity to learn something, asked about other wizards and Gandalf was all too happy to tell her about the other four Istari. When Thorin yelled from the front for them to keep quiet Belinda opened her mouth to yell back at him, only to end up clinging to her pony in a fit of laughter. Gandalf, not taking kindly to being ordered around by a stubborn and cranky dwarf, had sent a little burst of magic from his staff and caused a tree branch that had been above Thorin's head to come down and smack him in the face. Quite a few company members were biting their lips so as not to laugh at their leader, Fili and Kili were not among them and had looked at each other before bursting into a fit along with Belinda. Gandalf and the oldest dwarf Balin were both chuckling, Gandalf with a rather smug look as Thorin scowled at him.
"Why did you do that Gandalf?"
The wizard's response managed to set off another round of laughter.
"Never anger a wizard, Thorin Oakenshield, for we are subtle and quick to anger."
It took the company only a few days to make it to the edge of the Shire, and Belinda paused to look back at the only home she'd known for her whole life. Thorin was the first to realize she had fallen behind and a deep scowl crossed his features. Dwalin was next to notice, mainly by following the line of Thorin's scowling gaze. Unlike Thorin he understood what the little Hobbit was feeling, he had felt the same after being forced out of Erebor after all. Dwalin walked his pony up alongside of her own and laid a surprisingly gentle hand on her shoulder.
"Do not worry lass. You will see these green hills again after this journey is over with. Once we reclaim our home I will personally see to it that you are safely returned to yours."
Belinda looked up at him with a bright beaming smile that he couldn't help but return. The normally rough and intimidating dwarf found himself feeling both protective, and also a bit enamored with her. She had a strong spirit with a brave and loyal heart. He only hoped Thorin would stop glaring at her and trying to find her faults long enough to see that she was an asset to the company.
As they moved on Belinda was watching the landscape and she noticed a very distinct marker, one that hobbits used to warn others away from a potentially dangerous place. She looked over at Dwalin and motioned him to move closer, whispering softly for him to get Thorin to stop now before they went too far. Dwalin gave her a confused look but he decided to trust her and went to the front where Thorin and Gandalf were talking.
"Thorin…We should take a short break and let the ponies rest for a bit."
Thorin gave Dwalin a skeptical look but nodded sharply. The company dismounted and sat in a circle to relax a bit, all save the hobbit who was far too worried to settle down. She was pacing around the outside of the group, a nervous and anxious look on her face that was making Dwalin feel uneasy. He was about to go and ask her what was wrong but Thorin beat him to it, though he still listened in so he would know what was happening.
"What is the matter with you Halfling? You've not stopped pacing since we stopped to rest."
Belinda gave Thorin a withering look, her tone more biting than the others had thought possible for the upbeat little lady.
"I am not a Halfling, Thorin Oakenshield, I am a Hobbit. Halfling is a highly insulting term."
She took a deep breath and looked towards the fog-covered plain ahead of them, a deep shiver coursing through her frame and making her entire body shake.
"We need to make camp out here tonight. If we continue now we will end up in the middle of the Downs during the dark of the night."
Thorin scowled at her, his deep voice sounding condescending and insulting.
"If you are afraid of a little fog, Hobbit, you should turn and head back home now before we run into real danger…"
He started to say more only to have his words cut off by the angry scream of an enraged little hobbit.
"Enough! You may be the leader of this company, and you may be dwarves royalty, but that does not give you the right to be so disrespectful to me. I am NOT afraid of the fog, Thorin Oakenshield, I am afraid of what dwells within the fog. Those are the Barrow-Downs…and the Barrow Wights are horrid creatures of nightmare that even the strongest dwarf would be unable to fight against."
Her words had Gandalf by her side in an instant, a look of extreme concern on his face.
"Are you certain Belinda?"
She merely nodded and pointed to the marker that had originally caught her attention. It was an odd little symbol, an x within a circle within a square, and below that the words 'Barrow Downs' were scrawled. Gandalf's eyes dimmed a bit and he gave Thorin a hard look.
"Belinda is correct. To attempt a crossing of the Barrows at night would be suicide."
"And why is that Gandalf? How dangerous can spirits really be?"
Gandalf gave Thorin a harsh glare and his voice became deeper and darker.
"The Barrow Wights are not mere spirits. They are ancient beings. They spread fog as a cover and wait for travelers to cross through it…most end up camping in the fog when they miscalculate their distances. When night falls the Wights drift silently in the fog and begin to sing a haunting melody…one that causes all who hear it to fall into a deep sleep of dreaming. The Wights will then carry the travelers off to their Barrows and suck the very life and soul from their bodies, leaving them nothing but a hollow shell."
As Gandalf was describing the Wights Belinda had curled into a very small ball against the rock the marker was carved into. His words brought back a long-surprised memory that chilled her to her very bones, racking her small frame with violent shivers. Dwalin was watching her with a concerned frown on his face as she seemed to fall into a dark place in her mind. The young princes tried to talk to her but she couldn't hear them.
"Thorin…something is wrong with little Belinda."
Dwalin's voice, filled with concern, caused both Thorin and Gandalf to look at the shaking hobbit. Gandalf's angry expression melted into one of guilty sorrow as he moved closer to her, only to have Thorin growl at him in anger of his own.
"What is wrong with her Gandalf?"
"I am afraid I spoke without thinking of her…and she is now locked within a memory that had been viciously suppressed."
Thorin moved close and lifted the still-shaking female into his arms, curling her into the warmth of his body to try and calm her shivers. The sound of his strong heartbeat was the first sound that was able to penetrate the strong grip of her memory. Her shivers slowly begin to decrease as Gandalf explains things to the company.
"It has been quite a few years since I was last here, and I fear I forgot about the attack that took her father from her. Her mother was killed by wolves during the Fell winter…her father became distant and wandered often. Eventually he wandered into the Downs, taking Belinda with him, and became lost in fog. When night fell the Wights came for them, singing their haunting song. For reasons I cannot explain, as I do not understand myself, their song had no effect on Belinda and she was able to run away. It was a miracle she managed to find her way out of the fog and into the camp I had set up for that night."
Thorin gazed down at the now still form in his arms, a soft look on his face as he brushed honey-blonde curls out of her face. The rest of the company watched her as well, all of them feeling a sudden urge to protect and comfort her. A low and soft whine coming from her alerted them that she was waking from the memory. She began to try and move only to have Thorin's arms tighten around her and his deep baritone voice rumbling softly in her ear.
"Stay still Belinda. Rest, we will not move on this eve…we will remain here where it is safe."
His words seemed to have a soothing effect and she settled back into his arms with a soft sigh as sleep claimed her overly stressed mind. Thorin gave orders, softly so as not to wake Belinda, for the company to set up camp and keep the ponies close. He also had a double watch set up, with a dwarf on either side of the camp. Gandalf watched how tenderly he held Belinda close and felt a surge of hope well up within him that the two may yet become friends.