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The long line of ponies trotted slowly along the main path out of the Shire with the company. Gandalf of course lead the charge with Thorin right behind him. They had departed from Bag End before dawn but had wasted a good deal of time in gathering the necessary provisions, curtsy of Bombur and Bifur. Just as Thorin thought there would be no more disruptions, a voice called out from the woods behind them.
"Wait!"
One by one, the dwarves halted their ponies and turned to look.
What they saw was a hobbit with chestnut hair bounding towards them, wearing brown felt pants and a burgundy jacket and holding a piece of paper in hand. Gandalf smiled to himself while Thorin and a few of the older dwarves look on with surprise.
Marie Baggins had come along after all.
"Sorry I'm late." She panted as she run up to Balin's pony, holding the contract aloft, "I signed it." Balin took the contract and inspected it with a monocle. Marie glanced over at Gandalf, now beaming. "Marie my dear, isn't that your father's best jacket?" He asked.
Marie looked down at her appearance. The jacket itself was quiet big on Marie, as he father was a tubby hobbit, but thankfully his pants and waistcoat fitted nicely. Her hair was in a mess from a hasty attempt at a braid. "I was in a hurry so I grabbed the first one I saw."
As she spoke, she noticed a piece of wood latched onto Thorin's saddle. It was an Oak branch by the looks of it, just long enough to cover a man's arm. Now she knew why the dwarf called himself 'Oakenshield' but still. 'Why an Oak branch?'
"Well, everything seems to be in order." Balin said loudly so that Thorin could hear, "Welcome Miss Baggins to the company of Thorin Oakenshield." Balin smiled and winked at her. Marie finally let go of the breath she had been hold, for the entire time she had been running she had been worried that they would perhaps so no.
"Give her a pony." Thorin commanded, his indifference to the hobbit's presence all too clear to Marie. She stared at the back of his head as he already moved his pony away, feeling slightly annoyed at his rudeness. Her glaring was cut off as two strong hands lifted her clean off her feet. "Hey careful!" Fili and Kili held her up and settled her on one of the extra ponies.
"I can walk you know." She said as a pair of reigns was shoved into her hands. "Not all the way to Erebor love. Besides, you'll like Murtle." Fili said, stirring himself away once she was settled. She awkwardly held up the reigns while her pony followed on in the line. Gandalf moved from his position at the head of the line to ride beside Marie, as to keep a better eye on her.
"Come on Nori, pay up!" Oin, who was riding behind Marie called. Nori tossed a small purse over her head which Oin gleefully caught.
There were a few more purses tossed before Marie questioned Gandalf about it. "They took wages on whether or not you would turn up." He explained.
"Huh. And what did you think?" As she spoke, another purse was tossed and caught by Gandalf. "I never doubted you for a second my dear."
"Oh, well ahhh ... that's rea aahhh ... reassuring aaaACHOO!"
All the horse hair made Marie sneeze loudly. Her pony scampered off the trail and started to paw at the ground. The company halted again as Marie began to panic and tried pulling the reigns, but it did more harm than good. Kili jumped off his pony and attempted to be the hero, reaching for the scared animal.
"Aaaaahhh ease Murtle, good pony." Marie shaky voice did not sooth the pony, only making Gloin Dwalin and Bofur laugh. Kili finally caught the reign and pulled the pony back into line. "There that's better." He took one look at the petrified hobbit and had to try with all his might to contain his laughter. Fili too was struggling to keep a straight voice.
"Marie, are you alright?" Gandalf asked seriously. She had gone quite pale and her teeth were gritted together.
"Did you know it was going to do that?" Marie clutched her saddle desperately.
"Well, Murtle is ... sensitive." Fili rode up alongside her, "We thought you two would make a great pair."
"I have never ridden a pony in my life." The glares the two brothers got from her only made them laugh even more.
"Enough. Move one!" Thorin barked from the head of the party.
'Well ... great. I'm a member barely five minutes and I'm already a joke and a burden." Marie wished to be walking, but kept her mouth shut to prevent Thorin from disliking her even more.
"Take heart Marie, it can only get easier from here on out." The wizard spoke kind words to raise her spirits again. Marie could only hope that it would.
xxxxxx
The gentle green of the Shire faded behind them with each passing day, and with it the feeling of familiarity for Marie. For her, the world seemed to expand and grow bigger as soon as they crossed over the Brandywine Bridge. Open fields and hills became dry rocky plains stretching over the land, and even the dense forests held a more sinister nature to them.
Marie of course was the only one affected by such a change and was constantly watching the goings on around her, and never in front of her.
Marie was rusty when it came to basic survival skills and often found herself tripping on her own feet while exploring their campsites and being scolded for letting her pony trail off the path one too many times.
This made her an easy target for Fili and Kili's mischief, as they would constantly tease her and spook her.
She attempted to have decent conversations with some of the dwarves, but there was always some argument or some joke that distracted the company and left Marie completely in the dark on her own.
But she was not the only one to sit quietly on the side lines. Thorin himself seemed content with only watching his rowdy company. Occasionally Marie saw his eyes pull away from the camp and glance out at the surrounding terrain. Though the others took it in turns watching over the camp, Thorin was always keeping one eye open just in case. Marie found this a noble trait, even if Thorin had not once acknowledged her fully as a member. At times she caught him casting a fleeting glance her way, but in his eyes there was always something of discontentment which made her feel even more insecure around him.
One night, they had made camp on high ground, giving them a good view over the land below in case of any surprise attacks. Fili and Kili were both given the first watch of the night and sat by the small fire for warmth. All but Gandalf and Marie were fast asleep. Gandalf sat back in the shadows with his own pipe, deep in contemplation about their plans while Marie simply stared up at the stars above her, picking out the different patterns to pass the time.
She had learned how to pick them out long ago ... by a dear friend long gone.
After endless nights of camping with them, the dwarves' snoring was still preventing her from sleeping. Bombur was the worst. Marie sighed and adjusted her arms folded under her head, only to feel a spider crawl up her arm. She let slip a small squeak and shot upright, shaking her arm wildly to be rid of it. She almost hit poor Bombur as she did.
Kili looked up from his pipe and stared at the hobbit, "Ya all right Marie?" He softly asked.
"I'm alright. I'm alright. Bloody spiders." Marie gave an involuntary shiver. She hated spiders.
She stretched her arms and decided to walk off her little scare. She walked over to the ponies and gave Murtle a good scratch. In fact her relationship with her pony was the only thing to improve in the passing weeks of traveling.
A screech echoed across the night air, making the ponies and Marie tense up immediately. It sounded like a dying bird, a very dangerous and nasty bird.
The brothers also tensed up as well, Kili automatically reaching for his bow.
"What was that?" Marie made the wise choice to move back into the camp and away from whatever was making that awful noise.
"Orcs. Throat cutters." Fili said passively. "There'll be dozens of them out there. The lower lands are crawling with them."
"Orcs?" Marie said a little too loudly out of sheer panic. Thorin was awake in seconds and poised ready, Balin as well.
"They strike in the dead of night when everyone's asleep, no screams ... just lots and lots of blood." Kili said quietly. Marie felt her heart rate go up and she looked around expecting to have one pop out at her. The brothers however chuckled at her over reaction.
"You think thats funny?" Thorin growled at his two nephews. "You think a night raid by Orcs is a joke?"
Kili looked down sheepishly, 'We didn't mean anything by it."
"No you didn't." Thorin stood and walked passed Marie, the fur of his coat brushing her hands. Marie pulled away from the dwarf as he headed to the outskirts of the camp, but not before Marie heard him mutter, "You know nothing of the world."
Fili and Kili looked put down by his word and glanced at each other.
"Don't mind him, laddie." Balin said, "Thorin has more cause than most to hate Orcs."
Balin looked over at him, now standing alone as he stared off into the distance. "After the dragon took the Lonely Mountain, King Thror tried to reclaim the ancient dwarf kingdom of Moria... but our enemy had got there first." Marie found herself slowly sitting down by the fire as Balin told his tale. Fili and Kili too were drawn into the story.
"Moria had been taken by legions of Orcs, led by the most vile of all their race, Azog the Defiler." Some of the other dwarves had woken now and listened in.
"The giant Gundabad Orc had sworn to wipe out the line of Durin. He began by beheading the King." Marie bulled her legs in closer, her toes clenching the grass. "Thrain, Thorin's father, was driven mad by grief. He went missing, taken prisoner or killed; we did not know. We were leaderless. Defeat and death were upon us."
Balin's old face light up as he remembered it. Marie looked over at Thorin as Balin continued. She was seeing for the first time a great weight on those shoulders.
"That is when I saw him. The young dwarf prince facing down the Pale Orc. He stood alone against this terrible foe, his armour rent, wielding nothing but an oaken branch as a shield. Azog the Defiler learned that day that the line of Durin would not be so easily broken. Our forces rallied and drove the Orcs back. Our enemy had been defeated... but there was no feast or songs that night, for our dead were beyond the count of grief. We few had survived and I thought to myself then 'There is one I could follow. There is one I could call King'."
Thorin, who had been listening to his old companion's tale, finally turned to face the fourteen faces staring at him. Some were looking at him with admiration, others with utmost respect. He walked back through the camp, the company parting to make way. As he did he looked down at the hobbit curled up by the fire.
Thorin noticed that there was a brightness in her eyes he had not yet seen before. They were like the embers in the fire that flickered softly with not just awe, but a gentle understanding.
Where had this spark been?
It died very quickly when she dropped her gaze. "What of the Pale Orc. What happened to him?" She asked.
"He slunk back into to halls from whence he came. The filth died from his wounds long ago." Thorin answered for her, hate seething with every word.
If any had been looking at Balin at the time, they would have seen his voice fall and his lip twitch into a frown. He glanced over at Gandalf, who too looked quite sceptical.
Thorin's statement that Azog had died years ago ... may not have been as accurate as he'd thought.
