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Ally Layne.
The Revenge of the Huntress
-the one with Bree town-
"All the world is made of faith, and trust, and pixie dust."
― J.M. Barrie,Peter Pan
Huntress was going to be lucky if she didn't kill anyone. Namely, anyone named Thorin Oakenshield. After his insistence that she was a traitor the night before, she decided that it would be best if she were to avoid him for as long as she possibly could.
Hopefully, then she wouldn't give in to the urge to gut him where he stood.
It would be a shame to have to do that to someone who was as handsome as the Dwarf King, but she figured that she'd done worse to others who were also blessed with good looks.
So, instead of dealing with the rage of Oakenshield, she decided to dote on the pleasures that his nephews brought her.
And boy, did they bring her the greatest delight. Although, most of the delight that she was feeling probably came from the harsh glares that Oakenshield was giving her every time he glanced back at the three of them. For some reason, Huntress guessed that he didn't like her getting chummy with his nephews.
So, she decided it was her personal goal to get as close with them as possible, just to see how mad she could make him.
"What was it like growing up with Thorin as your uncle?" she asked.
Fíli and Kíli shared a look, and something mischievous passed between the two Dwarven Princes.
"He mostly made me learn how to be him in the future," Fíli admitted. "I've always been stuck going to different council meetings in the Blue Mountains, while Kee has been able to flounce about and do whatever he wants!"
Kíli glared at his brother. "I do not flounce!"
"Aye, brother! You strut!"
Huntress laughed with Fíli at the pout that sat on Kíli's face. "You're just jealous that I don't have to deal with all the boring stuff. And I'm the one that gets all the ladies."
"I am sure you do, Kíli," Huntress soothed. "And Fíli, I am sure you do a marvelous job while sitting through boring council meetings."
"Do you ever have to deal with boring council meetings, Lady Huntress?" Fíli asked.
"Not really. The council meetings that I get to attend are anything but boring. The Dúndain people certainly know how to make things interesting."
The young dwarves' eyes brightened. "How so?" Kíli questioned.
Huntress let out a chime of laughter. "I have to settle a lot of land disputes, but every meeting I also have to deal with some sort of issue pertaining to the local bears."
"Bears?"
"The brown bears are native to our land, which means we often have a run in every once in a while with someone and a bear. Bears have paws the size of your uncle's face and claws the size of my hands. They can do great harm to those who are caught unaware."
The princes looked at her in shock. "Has anyone ever been killed by a bear?"
"Unfortunately, yes. We do not like to hunt bears, as they are wonderful creatures when handled with caution. A few years ago, a young Dúndanling was mauled by a bear when she wandered off too far from the village. Her parents called for the killing of the local bears, but I disagreed. It was a tragedy, yes, but we did not need to mercilessly kill the animals who had done no wrong."
"But don't Rangers kill… people? Why are bears any different?" Fíli asked.
Huntress let out a breath at this but bit back a quick remark that hung on her tongue. "The Northern Rangers do not kill mercilessly. We only kill when necessary. We don't kill animals that we don't need to feed on, and we don't kill others who have done no wrong."
The two princes looked at her with slightly wide eyes. She figured she had probably been a bit harsh with her tone, but she didn't take well to the underlying accusations.
Yet, a twang of realization seemed to ring through her.
Ever since Arathorn died, the lines between right and wrong have blurred immensely.
To a certain extent, she knew she didn't share the whole truth to the princes. Sometimes, Huntress killed those who did not truly need to die. But in her eyes, there was no other way.
I have made the right choices. She reassured herself. They're young. They've never had to decide between life or death in their lives.
The rest of the ride to Bree was quick and painless. After the deep discussion with the two Dwarf Princes, she decided to lay low for the rest of the day and try not to draw too much attention to herself. Se had much to think about.
Bilbo was slowly growing more confident behind the reins of Myrtle, but Huntress had to put an emphasis on the word slowly. At least he wasn't gripping the reins as hard as the day before.
It was nearing nightfall by the time they arrived at the Prancing Pony, where the dwarves decided to stop in order to have a few stiff drinks. To her surprise, Thorin had agreed to do this, even though Huntress thought his no-funny-business demeanor wouldn't allow it.
Yet, here she was, sitting at a booth in the corner of the pub, surrounded by dwarves who were loudly eating and drinking ale. She figured there wasn't any other way that dwarves did things.
Huntress made sure to keep the hood of her cloak up, just as it was the day she met Gandalf here nearly a month ago. She was seated between Bilbo and Kíli, who made sure there was a spot next to him for her.
Even some of the older dwarves seemed to be getting a kick out of their enjoyment. "I've discovered the quickest way to a dam's heart is the length of your-"
Too much information-
"Beard!" Dwalin exclaimed, slamming his ale down on the table jovially. The dwarves sounded with laughter, while Huntress noticed from the corner of her eye that Kíli was feeling his lack of beard with disdain.
A quick glance in the other direction and Huntress saw Bilbo roll his eyes at the older dwarf. Maybe the Hobbit wasn't as lonely as she initially thought…
"My Gerda loves my beard," Gloin gushed, before taking another swig of his ale.
"We all know there's a reason why Bombur's got so many dwarflings!" Bofur laughed, tossing his head back joyfully. "And let's just say it's not just because of his cooking!"
Huntress let out a chuckle. She noticed Kíli was still looking a little glum and figured that his lack of beard was a bit of a sore spot for the dwarf.
"Beards aren't the only thing a lady likes," Huntress commented, before taking a sip of her own ale.
"Oh yeah?" Bofur asked, giving Huntress what he must have thought to be a sultry gaze. It looked more like he was constipated, in her opinion.
She nodded. "A real lady likes it when you know how to treat her right."
The dwarves that were listening immediately groaned. "But that's boring, lassie!" Nori exclaimed.
She shrugged. "It's not that boring if she does the same for you."
Huntress grinned mischievously as their eyes widened slowly as they caught on. Then, they burst out into laughter.
"Why, lassie, never knew you had it in ya!" Bofur guffawed.
"Nice choice of words, Bofur!" Fíli laughed, slapping the other dwarf on the back.
She snuck a look at Kíli next to her who looked far happier than he did before. She knew it was hard to be a late bloomer, and she didn't want the others to hold it against the poor dwarf.
"Another round on me!" Dwalin called out, lifting his glass high in the air. The others followed his lead and they cheered joyously.
The War General hopped out of the booth and made his way to the bar to order the next round of drinks. Huntress noticed the eyes that shifted with him uneasily, and something inside of her prickled a bit.
She wasn't the only one that noticed, either.
Thorin Oakenshield was looking at the other patrons at the pub with an eye of disdain, and Balin simply watched knowingly. She was immediately reminded that Thorin had spent time working in towns with humans and realized that he must have been used to such things.
"It didn't cost this much last round we had!" Dwalin yelled, glaring at the bartender. Huntress bristled.
"Yes, well, we had to add a few more coins to cover the cost of the glasses that you'll most likely break. We know what kind of things your kind does when you get drunk," the bartender spoke, crossing his arms. The man, who she believed was named Sam, sounded like a real jerk.
"My kind dinnae do anythin."
The warrior's change of tone shocked the Ranger, who immediately stood and started to make her way to the bar to ease the collateral. She knew these people, maybe she'd be able to be of service.
From the corner of her eye, she noticed she wasn't the only one to stand up and ease out of the booth and was immediately joined with Thorin Oakenshield as they made their way to help Dwalin.
Not that she particularly liked Dwalin or anything. But if the jerk insulted one dwarf, he insulted all of them, and she had made friends with a few of the other dwarves. She owed them enough to handle this.
Besides, being a Northern Ranger meant protecting the free peoples of Arda, and last time she checked the dwarves were a free people.
"Sam!" She yelled, stalking up to where he was bickering with the dwarf.
The bartender's eyes widened as he looked up and saw her approach. "L-Lady Huntress?"
She flicked off the hood, which hid her face from the others, and stood there with a cold-hearted glare. "What in Arda do you think you're doing, Sam?"
The man stood there in confusion. "I-I was just-"
Huntress shook her head. "No, let me tell you what you were doing. You were knowingly using these dwarves to get an extra bit of coin, weren't you? And you knew no one would say anything because they're dwarves, and therefore filth, correct?"
She didn't have to look at them to know all the dwarves immediately stiffened.
"Look, I'm just tryna run a business here-"
Huntress grabbed the front of his shirt menacingly and brought him down to her height. "You don't get to discriminate against anyone, got it? If I ever hear of you doing such a thing again, I'll take care of you personally, Sammy-boy. Nod if you understand."
He nodded, his face pale and clammy.
"Now, you're going to give us another round of ale on the house, and you're not going to complain. Understood?"
He nodded again.
Huntress let his shirt go with a thin smile and smoothened out the wrinkles that her hands made. "Good. Now go get us that ale."
He immediately turned away from the huntress and started filling up more glasses behind the bar.
"You didn't need to do that, lassie. I had it handled," Dwalin told her, his voice still seething with anger.
Huntress turned to look at him in surprise. "Yeah, because you getting in a brawl with the bartender was going to be a good thing."
Thorin looked between the two with pursed lips. "Yet, how did I meet the two of you at the beginning of this journey?" he asked.
Dwalin and Huntress immediately sobered.
"Yeah, well-"
"C'mon Thorin, you know-"
Thorin cut them off with a wave of his hand. "But I also won't disregard what she did for us, Dwalin." He turned to Huntress. "Thank you for dealing with that kakhuf inbarathrag1."
Dwalin chuckled, leaving Huntress confused as to what the Dwarf King referred to. "You're welcome?"
Thorin nodded, grabbed a few glasses of ale that Sam had already poured up, and walked back to the table to serve his people.
"Next time, lassie, don't intervene. I had it handled," Dwalin spoke, walking around her to grab more glasses and follow after Thorin. "I don't need a lady like you to fix my problems!"
"Well, alright then."
Huntress grabbed the rest of the glasses and brought them to the table where the dwarves were reenacting what she had done to the poor bartender. She handed the glasses to Bilbo, the princes, and Ori before taking a seat, and laughing along with the rest of them.
When they started to settle down and everyone was ready to head out to find lodgings for the night, Huntress and Gandalf shared a look.
"Thorin, there is a place where we do not have to pay to spend our evening," Gandalf informed him. "We will be perfectly safe there."
"Where is this place?" Thorin asked.
Huntress mounted her horse, who had been loitering outside the pub. "I can show you the way, Oakenshield. It is only a few minutes through the town."
"Is it indeed safe, wizard?"
Huntress tried to hide the roll of her eyes while Gandalf nodded. "It is, Master Dwarf. We best be on our way now."
Huntress led them to the home that she had built, and where she knew Halbarad had taken the women she saved a few days earlier. Gandalf was smart, and he didn't tell them they were going to her home, knowing that a few dwarves, in particular, would want nothing to do with it if they knew.
So, they didn't tell them.
"What is this place?" Thorin asked as the house was in their view. "Who lives here?"
Huntress just smiled slyly. "You will see, Master Dwarf."
He grumbled and quickly turned to speak with Balin in Khuzdul. His raven black hair followed him in an arc, and for not the first time Huntress found herself wondering what it would feel like.
"Do you know who lives here, Lady Huntress?" Dori asked. He had been far kinder to her after what she had said at the pub, which was the same for all the dwarves except Thorin and Dwalin. Even Gloin was starting to warm up to her.
She nodded. "I do, Master Dori."
"Will there be food?" She heard Kíli ask behind her. "I'm starving."
A smile flickered on her face from the smacking sound. "Kee, don't be a fool."
"Don't hit me, Fee!"
Huntress quickly hopped off Mithril and the others followed suit. "There are stables in the back for the ponies, and please take off your boots before entering the house. I would rather not you track horse shit throughout the home."
"You seem to know an awful lot about this place," Fíli pointed out.
She nodded, then turned to bring Mithril to her stables. "Remember this place, girl?"
The horse snorted, and she let out a laugh. Mithril remembered where her stable was and walked there to get some rest without Huntress having to guide her the entire way. After hanging up the saddles, she quickly made her way back into the home, unlocking the wooden door.
The faint scent of pine and cinnamon flowed through her, and she slowly walked around the massive space that greeted her.
She was so caught in the memories that she didn't even notice as someone else walked in behind her.
"Who is this?" a small voice of a Hobbit asked, pointing to a drawing that hung by the entrance.
"That, my dear Hobbit, is my brother and me many years ago." It was a picture of a younger version of her and Arathorn, drawn by an elf at Lord Elrond's request. Bilbo looked up at her, and his eyes widened in recognition.
"Is this your home?"
She sighed, looking at the vast lodgings in front of her. "This is not my home, but merely a place I own."
Translations
kakhuf inbarathrag: goat turd
