Hey guys! Thanks for all the feedback on the last chapter!
Just so you guys know this chapter is kind of more . . . serious. I'm not really happy with this chapter but it'll make do.
Onwards with the next chapter!
*edited May 2017
Chapter Nine: Thorn-In-The-Ass Oakenshield
I hate running. I hate it with a passion.
If I had the choice between running or getting run over, I would choose the latter. That's how much I hate running. Or any form of exercise.
Oh, you're probably wondering as to why I'm telling you this.
It's because, at this moment, I am running for my life. Literally. After we were dutifully noted by Gandalf that we are being hunted by an 'Orc pack' (whatever that was. I didn't want to find out and, henceforth my running, never wanted to) we thought, 'oh, cool, hey that's fine; we still have the horses, don't we?'
No, we didn't.
The little fuckers bolted off and we were left to run for our lives while they were probably safe and sound while grazing grass and shit. I swear, I am never, ever getting on another one of those stupid ponies ever again in my life.
Little brown man - also known as Radagast - may have just gotten himself into my good books since he volunteered himself to distract these monsters called Wargs. With a flick of his bunnies tails, the wizard was off in a flash and I was forced to start pumping my legs as fast as I can because if I didn't I would surely be dead. At first I was fine, I was running faster than half the group, running alongside Kili and Fili with keeping a steady breathing pace. I was perfectly okay and I knew I could do it. Just one foot in front of the other while, inside my mind, I'm running in circles screaming mayday! Mayday! I needed to be calm, needed to keep my pace steady and make sure I didn't lag behind the group and end up getting killed.
Then I saw it; the Orc.
As we had rounded a boulder I got a peek of what we were running from. And I really wish I hadn't; it is probably the most disgusting thing I have ever laid eyes on; its skin looked rotted and too pale, black goo dribbled from the corner of its mouth with its teeth all bent and crooked. Its eyes were a bright, nearly luminous yellow, like a cat's when you shine a light their way in the darkness. The sight of the disgusting thing threw me off track and my steady mantra left my mind. I was left to be winded and tired as the picture of the grotesque thing nestled itself forever in my mind.
But, getting back to the present, I am currently trying not to vomit or collapse. A stitch has made its way into my side, nestling quite uncomfortably. My thoughts are like tangled wires, with my breathing laboured. The muscles in my legs burned fiercely as I kept pushing them to their limit. Only the fear of being killed is keeping me from collapsing onto the grass.
"I swear," I pant heavily as I struggle to keep up with Kili, "I am never," taking another breath I lurch forward to gain more speed as those in front of us run closer to a large boulder, "ever, going to let myself - get this out of - shape!"
I suddenly slam into Kili's back as we stop momentarily. He steadies me by wrapping an arm around me as he covers my body with his. I all but slump against him as I try to pan out my breathing. Jesus, how on Earth did I get so unfit? I grip his shoulders, scrunching his cloak in my hand as I feel the stitch slowly fade, steadying my breathing. In through the nose, out through the mouth and repeat. My knees are shaking and the itchy material of my clothes sticks to my sweat skin, my hair plastered to my forehead and neck. My heart is sprinting itself, both from the fear and sheer adrenaline. I feel my eyes start to droop from the pure exhaustion of running when I hear Gandalf's command to start running again. I bolt up and, without another word, Kili takes me by the hand and drags me along. I hated being such a burden, that I needed to be constantly babied and couldn't even seem to defend for myself. I wanted to let go but the frightened part of me, the side that was a complete coward, tightened its grip of Kili's hand.
Are we ever going to stop running? I feel like my legs are about to fall off!
I try to tell this to Kili but I can't string words into a proper sentence; I just wheeze loudly and grunt as we suddenly stop again. I slump against the rock for a brief second before I'm being pulled by both brothers, each of them taking one hand. If I just keel over and die, will they leave me behind? Because if they do, I swear I will go through with tiny part of me that still had some pride left (yeah, that part of me actually existed) wanted to tug my hands free to show I was actually capable of keeping up and capable of being independent. But once again, the fear and terror kept its hold over me and it took everything in me not to burst out into tears.
I was tired, tired of running, tired of being scared, tired of wondering when was the next time we were going to be chased, tired of wondering when will the next near death encounter will actually result in my death. I missed home, I missed living my boring, every day life and I missed being safe.
I start to run at a rhythm, trying to make it a little less painful to breathe and to keep up with the two brothers. Step, step, breathe in, step, step, breathe out, step, step bre -
"ORI! NO!" Thorin yells.
The young Dwarf wobbles over the edge of a cliff and my heart stutters to a stop as my eyes widen. I half-heartedly stumble to help him (oh, yeah, because that's a good idea Libby you dolt), letting go of the hands gripping my own but Fili holds me back at the same time Thorin yanks Ori back safely. And then we were off running. Again.
My mind is blank as I stay solely focused on my breathing and the fact my feet really fucking hurt; I mean, yeah, I can wear converse without having my feet feel like they've been run over by a truck but running? Hell, no.
Breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe, the mantra repeats in my head as I stare down at the soft green grass that gets crushed underneath my tired and heavy feet. I can hear the growls from the - Wargs, was it? - as they become too near for my liking.
It's Kili who grabs me by the arm as they all duck behind a big massive boulder, heaving and panting as they're flush against the rock. My legs feel like jelly and I'm positive if it weren't for Kili's arm that's pressing me safely up against the rock, I would collapse to the ground in a heap. In my left hand I hold the tiny dagger, my hand shaking like mad as though I'm having a seizure. While my body is glue to the ground, my mind speeds up with me being barely able to keep up. My chest gulps in shallow and sharp breaths, trying to stop the sob that's just about being contained from being let loose. I really, really, really, did not want to die.
I hear a pattern of footsteps above us and a guttural growl, clearly stating that there was one of those - those things are above us. I feel my stomach flip over in as I grip the hilt of the dagger tighter, skin stretching yellow over my knuckles as my inner pessimism snickers at my action - as if I would be able to fight it off, I'd die the minute I'd try. I'm useless. I hear the scrape of claw against rock and it reminds me all too much of the sound when you scrape a nail against a chalk board. Kili takes his arm back as I fall up flush against the rock, ignoring the nervous chattering of my heart.
Ignoring the goose bumps that run down along my arm, I watch from peripheral vision as Kili takes an arrow from his quiver, notching it as his eyes stay focused on the ground. He bounces slightly on the balls of his feet, as though counting to three, before pulling the arrow tightly back. The others watch him nervously as his eyes flicker back and forth before he jumps out from our special hiding place, turning around to send an arrow through the Warg's head; a quick death.
Or so I thought.
The beast falls from its place above us and onto the ground; writhing in pain, inhuman sounds screech from its mouth as it thrashes in pure torture. I watch with my mouth agape at the sight of the howling animal, feeling my heart lurch; It's a living thing, of course it feels pain, why wouldn't it? A few of the others scamper forward and start to hack at the animal, making more howls pierce the air. All I can do is stare in horror, as the animal continues to scream in pain while being butchered cruelly. It's whine sounds too much like a dog's and it's all I can do not to vomit up whatever is left in my stomach.
And howls are returned.
The Orc that had sat upon the now dead animal springs forward, with black goo flying from its mouth as it speaks in a very different language altogether. I raise my pathetic dagger towards the creature with my mouth feeling like it's been stuffed with hot cotton balls. The others aren't as afraid as I am. They never are. I'm just a coward. They charge forward and, in the same fashion as they had with the Warg, they cut the Orc down with black blood flying everywhere.
Ah, yes, because I would love nothing better than to have the image of something being murdered in front of me.
That stops me; murdered. They murdered it. It was a living thing and now, well, not so living. I feel the taste of bile start to appear on my tongue as silence envelopes us, my breathing louder than any of the others. I want to cry - for what? For the dead animal that was going to kill me or for myself?
Then the howls become more prominent and I can just hear the anger and pain.
Kili takes my hand and pulls me away from the crime scene and I start to run again. I'm positive my knuckles have turned a pale yellow colour due to my tight grip on the dagger, my fingers becoming stiff and sore. We continued running until we could pinpoint the creatures chasing us positions.
"There they are!" Gloin shouts boldly, making my stomach drop. No way in Hell am I dying again! It's odd having to use the word again when I have no idea whether I actually am dead or just -
Now is not the time to be thinking about this, Libby!
I manage to make my way beside a visibly shaken Ori as I hold onto my knife like it's a life line; funny since it could probably save me. My heart leaps when I see exactly what I didn't want to see; we are surrounded. The Wargs cut off any chance of escape by forming a circle around our tight knit group; they're practically foaming at the mouth in anticipation. My knees are threatening to give out from under me and I feel my eyes tingling, all the while my body quivers and my breath hitches in my throat. I don't want to die, I don't want to die, I don't want to die. Despite knowing that the Dwarves are all around me, I feel as if I'm alone, that the space around me stretches on for miles and miles. The fear has made my body still and all I can do is stare at the monsters that are waiting to tear me limb from limb. Was there ever a time before where I never felt scared? Was my life before all of this even real, or just something I dreamed up?
"There's more coming!" I hear Kili's voice above all the growls and snarling of the Wargs. Oh great, more; because no one can ever have enough of anything.
"Kili!" Thorin yells back, his voice sounding hoarse, "Shoot them!"
I can hear the snap as Kili lets each arrow fly from the bow, meeting its mark each time. The smell of blood and death reaches my nose and it takes everything I can not to bar as I eye the Wargs that are coming closer and closer to our little tight knit group. Each step they take, results in the Dwarves taking one back, prolonging the inevitable.
"We're surrounded!" Fili informs us just as Kili sends another arrow to an Orc that falls instantly. I glance back hopefully at Fili, having not being used to defending myself; I feel the tweak of my bladder and I pray and hope that I won't piss myself but, by the looks of those Wargs and their fugly riders, dying in a puddle of my own piss seems like the way I'm going to go. Great. But Fili doesn't look to me, and I realise how selfish I'm being, expecting him to protect me. I'm just a burden. Maybe if it weren't for me, they could have escaped by now.
"Where's Gandalf?" Someone shouts in a worried tone; oh God, really? Another problem? I swear if that Wizard ditched us I am going to come back from the dead (again?) just to haunt his wrinkly old ass.
And there's an image that I want imprinted into my mind for the rest of eternity.
"He's abandoned us!" another - Dwalin - yells in anger and distaste as the Wargs begin to close in more on us, all but laughing as their hackles raise and they bare their teeth. An arrow whizzes past the space between Ori and I to meet the Orc rider of the Warg closet to us. I turn briefly to share a smile at Kili, thanking the Dwarf who pauses in the middle of shooting another arrow to send a soft smile back. It stills my fear for a moment, giving something like strength to quit my quivering and sniffling.
"This way you fools!"
Bitch says what?
I whirl around to see Gandalf standing not too far away on a slip of rock in front of a much larger boulder. I knew he wouldn't abandon us! Well, I had a feeling that I would know that he wouldn't abandon us.
Never doubted him for one second.
Kind of.
Ehem.
Moving on.
I feel hope surge through my veins as I urge Ori to run towards the Wizard, making sure to face the Wargs so that they won't try and jump me. I don't know about you, but I really don't fancy having my fucking face ripped off. Their paws shake the ground as they bolt forward, snapping and snarling at us. I watch as the draw closer, my feel stuck to ground with my heart in my mouth. I'm too scared to move though my mind is yelling at me, screaming to move my fat ass and to get going.
But...
I can't.
All I can do is stare at death in its ugly face and hope, just hope, death is kinder to me this time around.
A majority of the Dwarves have followed Gandalf down into, well, where ever Gandalf had told them to go. The only ones to remain are Thorin, Kili and I. I beg for my body to move but at that moment, it feels that if I take a step, the earth will disappear out from underneath me.
Kili is shooting arrows fast at anything that dared to come ten feet near him, their bodies dropping faster than stones. Thorin shoots an impatient glare towards the back of his nephew before turning to me.
"Aurora! Get in!" Did he just fucking call me by my first name? I'm going to have a long talk with Mr Thorn - In - The - Ass Oakenshield. Ha, get it? Because his name is Thorin which is kind of like Thorn In? No? Well, I tried and that's all that mattered. I hear the sharp bark of a Warg and it snaps me out of my terror fuelled daze, making my eyes widen as I realise just how close the bastards are before I instantly turn on my heels as I run back towards Thorin.
I don't need to be told twice.
I pump my legs as fast as I can with my arms swinging by my side. I don't feel the pain in my feet due to the adrenaline that's flowing through my veins, adding more speed and power. I'm twenty feet away from Thorin when something attacks me from behind, flinging my body to the ground. I roll onto my back before a pair of paws - nearly as big as my head - land either side of me and I drag my eyes up to meet the last sight I'll ever see - the sharp rows of yellow teeth that remind me of meat hooks.
The Warg's breath smells of death, blood and decay; probably what I would have guessed it to be.
The need to pee goes away as I'm faced with the only thing that is left for me: death. (No, I didn't pee my pants if you're wondering.)
I feel the drool land onto my cheeks as I fucking hear it snigger; fucking bastard laughing at the fact he can kill me. I am not going to die like this; I am not going to die sobbing and crying. Gathering the threads of whatever courage I had long since thought lost, I grit my teeth in pure white hot anger and, before I know it, I raise my dagger and stab the little bastard in the eye. The howl all but bursts my ear drums as I pull it out and stab it into its skull. Instantly, the Warg falls to the ground, obviously dead and I crawl my body out from under it as I bring my dagger down to meet the crown of its head, feeling the black blood spray all over me, and even into my mouth, the taste burning and vile. I know I'm crying; the hot, fast paced salt water makes clear tracks down my cheeks, removing all hints of grime and blood. I'm a killer; I'm a murderer. A choking sound escapes my mouth as I pull the blood coated weapon away from its head. More blood flicks onto me. I bring the blade down again for good measure, anger replacing whatever emotions I thought I had. Again, again and again I drive it in, wanting to scream and cry.
Killer. Killer. Killer. Killer.
I'm a killer. I'm a murderer. I'm evil. I'm evil. I'm a monster.
I start to back away from the dead body with my chest heaving. Before I can have a breakdown, a hand clamps down around my forearm and I look up to meet the collective brown eyes of Kili.
Don't break down, Libby; not now. Don't you let him see you cry.
I send him a nod, my face instantly being wiped of any emotion, before we start to run towards where Thorin stood - looking down right furious at the two of us. I don't meet his livid gaze as I jump down, the little gap where I could see the others standing with looks of concern on their faces. I tumble down, my shoulder twinging in pain as it connects with the stone and I land face down into the dirt.
All I want is to just go home and lie in bed on the computer; I've had quite enough of Dwarves and Wizards, and Orcs and Wargs and Trolls and I'm basically done with this place. I want to go home. I don't want this anymore. I want my mammy. I want my dad. I want to go home.
Someone (Fili, actually, since I can see the wisps of blonde hair in my vision as he wraps me in his arms like a mother would a child. Okay that was a weird thing to say as I really doubt Fili acts motherly in anyway at all) helps me to my feet, pulling me a safe distance away as I see Kili slide down and, lastly, Thorin. Thorin spares me all but a single glance and I can tell that he's going to start yelling at me. I open my mouth to defend myself when the long sound of horns came.
I widen my eyes as I hear the sound of more feet on the ground, making our little cave shake and dust come down from the ceiling. I see the shadows of horses and I can hear the pain filled yelps of the Wargs soon follow.
Just when I think this day can't get any worse, something tumbles down the hole, metal scrapping against stone, as it lands right at my feet. I stop breathing all together as its (the Orc's) head lolls down onto my shoes, the Orc's ugly face gone with any life. The taste of bile becomes stronger and I struggle in Fili's hold. I really don't want to puke up on him - it'd become really awkward and I really doubt he would appreciate it.
"What are you - ?" He starts before I manage to become free and I walk away from the company who hardly spare me a look, nearing the back of the cave as I hunch over, letting the contents of my stomach spill out. Which isn't much I can say the least. It's pathetic, really; the way I'm acting. I knew death was soon going to have to happen on this quest. The old saying forms in my mind 'either me or him' as I try to tell myself, yes, it was either myself or that beast that's probably spilled more blood under the clear blue sky. That doesn't make it any better. All I wanted was a quiet life, to live in peace and by the sea. I dry retch with my throat aching, wiping my mouth with my sleeve as I place a sweaty and grimy hand on the stone, ignoring the pain from the pebbles that stick into my skin. I can feel the tears drying but are quickly being replaced by new ones. I won't cry. I won't cry, I won't let them see me cry.
But I can still hear the sound of something being torn away from the Orc's flesh and I'm telling you, it isn't a nice thing to hear. I hear the crunch of a bone, dead skin against metal as Thorin yanks an arrow from the dead body. I turn away from where I got sick and stumble down onto the ground, wiping my eyes from their tears and my cheeks from the blood, though I'm pretty sure I only manage in smearing the thick consistency across my cheeks; my borrowed gloves are black from the Warg's blood and wet from my tears. I stare at my hands before taking the gloves off and throwing far off to the side. Sorry, Ori.
I know I shouldn't have done it but I seriously can't think about anything except the fact I had killed a living thing; I saw how the light left its eyes and I don't ever want to see it again. I'm a killer. I notice how the others don't seem too bothered by this fact, I'm probably "over reacting" by their standards.
"Elves," I hear Thorin grunt, his voice practically dripping with venom and distaste. Far off to the side, Dwalin is inspecting a part of the cave that looks to be an escape.
Wait.
Did Thorin say Elves?!
With a groan, I pull myself to my feet, feeling quite happy that everyone is ignoring me. I calm my breathing and try hard not to focus on the horrible taste in my mouth or the pain in my throat every time I breathe. I'm lucky that my bag and the one I had taken from the cave aren't damaged; I'd be fucked if they were.
"Are you okay?" The voice startles me as I look up to meet Kili's concerned gaze. He looks a lot better than I do, I can tell you that. My hair is tangled with blood and dirt mangled into the once shining blonde. It pains me with seeing it is being neglected but I don't have time to brush it what with being almost killed all the time.
I meet Kili's eyes, deciding on whether or not to tell him the truth. He's only asking if I'm okay to be polite, a voice in the back of my head whispers, he doesn't really care. I shake my head, scattering all pessimistic thoughts; I should be happy. I'm alive, I'm breathing. I'm fine. I am fine. I turn back to Kili with a forced smile on my face.
"I'm perfectly fine," I lie.
His eyes narrow at me, as though he knows I'm lying. Of course he does. Mam always said I was an open book.
"No, you're not." It's a sharp statement, but I just stare at him. I was fine, I mean, I'm alive, aren't I? I wasn't dead or injured, just exhausted from both the running and, well, everything else. I drop our gaze, pursing my lips. I didn't need to be babied; did he just not see me stab something to death? I get to my feet, brushing my already dirty pants. I'm just a burden. I can't do anything right.
"Kili, really, I'm fine. A little shocked, but what was I expecting to happen on this quest?" I shrug, meeting his eyes again as I try to keep my voice steady. I didn't like lying, not ever and always will. It hurt lying to people I cared about. "Are you alright? I mean, we both were just chased and nearly died."
"Of course I'm fine." It comes too quick and sharp. Look who's lying now. My eyes narrow and I can see how his hand that's still wrapped around his bow shakes a little. Is this is what was going to become of us? Before our friendship has barely even started and we're already lying to one another. I shake my head a little, sighing sadly.
"No, you're not." I'm throwing his own words back at him and I feel like a hypocrite, being upset that he's lying to me when I lied to him. I turn away from Kili and he opens his mouth to comment but is cut off by Dwalin. "I cannot see where the pathway leads," Dwalin informs us, turning back slightly to face the rest of us, "Do we follow it or not?"
Eagerly, Bofur answers "Follow it, of course!"
Looking for a way out of the oncoming argument with Kili, I shoulder past him to join the others as they follow Dwalin down the path. Instantly, my eyes are attacked by the light; I squint my eyes as I raise a hand to shade them. I find myself walking alongside Bofur as we trek down the rocky path side by side.
"You alright there, lass?" Bofur asks softly under his voice. "You didn't look too well back there."
I roll my shoulders at his questioning. "Yeah, I'm good. It's just..." I swallow, brushing my shoulders with Bofur as I keep my voice low so that the others won't hear our conversation. Just what?Just me nearly breaking down because of everything happening to me? Just me being tired of waking up and wondering if today's going to be the day I die? Just me wanting to abandon this stupid quest that I didn't even want to go on in the first place? "Just . . . after shock, y'know? Never killed something before in my life. Apart from that one time I lost my goldfish and found the bowl a month later."
"You're strange," Bofur grins, making it out to be a compliment. My forced usual humour seems to push whatever worry he had for me away. "Most would be scared of nearly dying - especially with a Warg being the last thing they ever see."
I let out a little hollow chuckle at that, my voice echoing through the walls slightly. Bofur and I hang near the back with Bombur - who, somehow, squeezes through the seemingly tight walls without any trouble - Bifur, Ori, Dori, Bilbo and Gandalf. Kili and Fili are up ahead, having out walked me, right behind their uncle. I stare at Kili's back, lingering on the sight of him with guilt beginning to rear its ugly head. "I was scared shitless; I kept thinking that if I died my mammy would probably bring me back from the dead to kill me again."
Bofur guffaws heartily at that as I smile alongside him. The others - who are very silent - take no notice of our conversation as they're too focused on the light that continues to become brighter and brighter. "Your mother is just as odd as you!" Bofur giggles. I start to laugh along when I realise: I probably won't ever see her again.
"Yeah," I say, a little dew eyed, "she was."
Way to bring the mood down, Libby.
I stare straight ahead as I try to stop myself from thinking of home again; if there is a home for me to get back to. From the corner of my eye I see Bofur stare at me curiously, as though he wants to ask me what was wrong but, quite suddenly, the entire company stops. I stumble forward but Bofur catches me at the elbow.
"Thanks," I wheeze slightly but his focus is elsewhere. Following his line of sight, I'm met with probably the most beautiful sight I'll ever see. It looked something that belonged in the beauty of Ancient Greek with a mixture of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon. I hear the water gush below us along with the soft chirps of the birds. The buildings were all open to the air and sunlight, the polished stone glinting.
"Holy fucking shit on a cracker," I breathe, everyone within ear shot turning to me with shocked looks on their faces. I instantly turn a bright red as I splutter out, "Sorry." I hear Bofur smothering a laugh beside me and I elbow him, not before wiping the smile off of my own face.
"The Valley of Imladris," Gandalf announces, quite smugly as he catches Thorin's pissed off face. Is Thorin always pissed off or is that just his face normally? "To the common tongue it is known by another name."
"Rivendell," Bilbo breathes in an airy voice, eyes glazed over with awe at the sight of the beauty that is in front of him. I block out Gandalf's and Thorin's bitch fight (they tend to fight a lot; they're like an old married couple) as I breathe in the clean fresh air. I could just tell that this place is one I could fall asleep in and not have to worry about something slunk in during the night and slit my throat.
I think I'm going to like it here.
"You know what I feel like? A Kit Kat; oh God, I really want a Kit Kat so badly. I used to eat them all the time back home and, Jesus Christ, they are ah - maze - ing." I blurt, emphasising the last word as I sidle my way beside a very awed Ori. Unlike the other Dwarves (who look like they just want to spit on the ground then and there) he's amazed by the architecture of Rivendell.
"What's a Kit Kat, Miss Libby?" Ori asks, sparing me enough of his time to ask the question. I stare at him, my face blank and eyes wide in shock.
"Oh my God, how do you even survive here?" I whine as we make away across a bridge. I haven't talked to Kili since that incident in the caves; I feel bad for acting so cold hearted towards him back then but, fucking Hell, I just killed something and I plan on repressing that so far in the back of my mind. I needed to just push all these thoughts and feelings down, far out of sight. Out of sight, out of mind. If I started acting different, the Dwarves were going to notice and the last thing I needed, or wanted, was them asking questions. Just repress, rinse and repeat. I've been doing that a lot lately . . .
We enter a little courtyard, the Dwarves grumbling in Khuzdul underneath their breaths. I catch many words that they say but, with none of them being, ehem, pleasant I don't think I shall repeat it (oh, so now I'm acting like a lady?). I glare at the stubborn and prideful Dwarves who still have their weapons out as though they're expecting an attack.
If anything, I would bet on my life that if there was an attack, the Dwarves would be the one to start it.
"Boys and their toys," I scoff as I cross my arms over my chest, before turning back to admire the prettiness of the place. I wouldn't mind staying here for the rest of my life if it meant no near death situations.
"Mithrandir!"
All at once, the entire company turns around to face a very beautiful, dark haired . . . man? No, this person had hair that was too long for a man. But the voice was deep like a man so . . . what? Plus, I doubt beautiful was something you described a man, but holy crap, this man was beautiful.
"Uh . . . " I start to become confused as the person came nearer with a smile on their face. What the Hell does 'Mithrandir' mean? "Who's that?" I whisper out of the corner of my mouth, leaning towards Ori as I make a pointing motion at the person making their way towards that.
"That's an Elf, Miss Libby," Ori whispers back all but hurriedly in the same fashion I had. I splutter at Ori before turning back to the person who is talking to Gandalf. That's an Elf? No. Fucking. Way. Where are the pointy shoes with bells on them? The little green costumes and the cherry red cheeks? And I thought Elves were little small things; I used to think I was an Elf when I was younger. Until my mom stomped on that dream with her Stiletto high heels by telling me that Elves or any magical creature existed.
Oh, to see her face right now would be fucking awesome.
"Say, Ori, is that a guy or a girl?" I say, hardly audible as I whisper it out the corner of my mouth again, trying not to draw any attention from the others. Ori clamps a hand over his mouth at my question and I look at him confused. What did I do now?
"That's a male, Miss Libby," he tells me with a smile and I make an "oh" sound as I turn back to the guy talking to Gandalf. And then I groan in realisation, causing a couple of the company to turn to me with confused expressions.
"There are even guys prettier than me!" I whine out loud, causing them to roll their eyes and mutter, 'women' underneath their breath. I cross my arms over my chest as I slip my lower lip in between my teeth. "This shit is getting way too old now," I growl as I stare up at the perfect male with his perfect skin and his perfect height with his stupid fucking perfect hair.
I want to push him in a puddle of mud; let's see how he would fair then.
The sounds of horn stop me mid rant and I whirl around to see horses galloping towards us. Only thing is: they don't stop. I yelp as they draw nearer, the horses getting larger and larger until it seems that they can crush me underneath their hooves. I let out another yelp as someone grabs me by the arm and pushes me back so that I'm being squished by the Dwarves. And I'm telling you, the smell was not pleasant.
"Move together! Form ranks!"
Are you actually fucking me right now?
Along with Ori and Bilbo, I'm pushed back so that the rest of the Dwarves are in a tight circle around us. Though I know why I was pushed to the very centre with Ori and Bilbo, I turn to glare who ever dared push me back but instantly stop when I see Kili's shut - up - and - go - with - it look. I clamp my mouth shut and turn away from the Dwarf to stare over the heads of the others as the horses finally come to a stop around us. Jesus Christ, they're huge.
An Elf - assuming he is an Elf, weird calling him that - turns to Gandalf on his horse with a smile breaking across his face. "Gandalf," Elfie (as his new name shall be; I have decided and there is no going back) greets cheerfully.
Does everyone here know Gandalf? Is he like the Regina George of Middle Earth?
"Lord Elrond," Gandalf greets (Oh, well, I guess that's his name. Oops), smiling at the Elf that sat on the horse. He then continues on to speak in a strange language that, oddly enough, reminds me of French; it flows from his lips like liquid and is very beautiful. But, however, I can't understand a word of it; guess I only understand Khuzdul. Shame, because I really want to know what they're saying.
The Elf - Lord Elrond - dismounts the horse with such grace that I would kill for. He continues to speak in the odd language Gandalf spoke in before him and Gandalf embrace each other in a hug. I have to bite back an awww at the sight since I'm secretly a sucker for things like this. I hear the unimpressed mutters of the Dwarves at the hugging Wizard and Elf whereas Bilbo just looks downright confused. Me and you both, buddy.
"It is very strange for Orcs to come so close to our borders," Lord Elrond speaks, turning back to good, old English as Gandalf masks his face into supposed innocence. Ha! "Something, or someone, has drawn them near."
Oopsie.
"Ah," Gandalf says, a bit sheepishly, "That may have been us."
You know that was us, old man; don't try to make us seem innocent.
The two tall men, Lord Elrond and Gandalf, turn away from each other to face the Dwarves, Bilbo and I; Lord Elrond smiles slightly down at Thorin but all Mr Thorn In The Ass Oakenshield does is glare at the pretty Elf. Yes, I called Lord Elrond pretty because he is; sue me. Seriously though, Thorin could use some pep pills with the way he's staring at the Elf; it's not like Lord Elrond spat in his soup and forced him to eat it.
"Welcome Thorin, son of Thrain," Lord Elrond said, probably a bit too dramatic for my liking. Seriously, this whole place acts like it's a Spanish soap Opera called 'We're All Too Stubborn Too Admit That The Elves Are Very Pretty But The Dwarves Are My Height So That Instantly Makes Them Cooler'. Well, maybe not that exactly but you know what I mean.
"I do not believe we have met," Thorin grunts all but snobbishly, as though the Elf is a mere pest. I wonder if there isn't something Thorin hates or dislikes or thinks is beneath him. Probably not.
"You have your grandfathers bearing," Lord Elrond explains, "I knew Thror when he ruled over the mountain." Oh my God, are we seriously going to get into the subject of Thorin's family? I will actually pee right here and now if they don't just do that weird man hug thing and move it along while casually going 'S'up'. Actually, that sounds like something I would do by mistake.
"Indeed?" Thorin asks, his politeness (or . . . whatever it is) wavering as his eyes narrow. "He made no mention of you."
I have to hold back a very loud and stretched 'Damn' at how salty Thorin sounds. Honestly, though, I'm supposed to be the one that fucks up; I groan outwardly at his words because not only has he probably cost me a trip to the bathroom but probably a nice warn bath (since these Elves look all clean and pristine and shit), a comfortable bed and food, proper, warm food. Since vomiting up what little I've eaten while here back in the cave, I have to wrap my arms around myself to stop my stomach growling loudly, demanding food.
I watch as the two men eye each, wondering who will break eye contact first. Finally, Lord Elrond, not breaking eye contact with the Dwarven King, turns his head slightly as he speaks the strange language to the Elf dude who had greeted Gandalf previously. Gloin steps forward, raising his axe as he puffs out his chest.
"What is he saying? Does he offer us insults?!" Oh, God, man calm down, I feel just embarrassed for you. The other Dwarves join Gloin as they make out raged comments before Gandalf hushes their outburst.
"No, Master Gloin, he is offering you food," Gandalf explains while Lord Elrond gazes on, looking very humoured at the Dwarves reactions.
"Oh, praise the Lord! Thank Jesus, you guys didn't screw this up!" I all but sigh in delight as I clasp my hands together over my heart, a smile breaking out across my face. Every eye is on me as I let my eyes flicker about. "What? It's true! If you guys cost me some good food I would have complained all of your ears off until you went deaf! No offence, Oin," I add sheepishly before I glare around to just show how serious I am, each of the Dwarves looking very amused.
"I would think my eyes deceive me," I hear Lord Elrond mutter as I meet his eyes, feeling very abashed at my little spurt and I feel an embarrassed glow flame across my cheeks. The Dwarves split, stepping aside as Lord Elrond fucking glides towards me like he's wearing Heelys or some shit. Oh, God, I can practically feel my self - confidence drop even lower as I take in his clean clothes and his soft, silky hair and his grime free face. Damn, I wish that were me. "I have never seen a female Dwarf ever leave home or the safety of the mountains nowadays."
I let out a gurgle from my throat that sounded like a grunt and my attempt of saying 'Pfft', making a gesture with my hand as if to say 'stop it you'. "Nah, I'm a free spirit, I'm an independent, young woman who don't need no - " I blink for a moment as I register his words, my face scrunching up, "Wait, did you just call me a Dwarf?"
From behind Lord Elrond's elbow I can see Gandalf giving me a pointed look, clearly saying 'shut up'; the Dwarves look very confused as to why I had looked quite offended when I asked Lord Elrond why he mistook me for female Dwarf.
Oh yeah, they think that I am a Dwarf; I probably shouldn't have said anything. No shit Libby! Since you're travelling with Dwarves and are all but the same height as them, no wonder people think you are one!
Cursing myself mentally, I look quickly to cover my tracks by stringing a few incoherent words together - which consists of me puffing my cheeks out and making numerous faces as my eyebrows furrow together. Lord Elrond raises his bad ass looking eyebrows at my stumbling and turns his torso towards the Wizard - who is in the middle of giving me the 'shut up' look but instantly turning innocent when Lord Elrond's eyes land on him, smiling slightly and lifting his shoulders as if to say 'I don't know'.
Innocent my ass, you wise old bastard.
"Ha ha, because you are right!" I finally say awkwardly and almost meekly as I let out another too high pitched laugh, causing Lord Elrond to turn back to me. Oh God, end this torture! "I am totally a Dwarf! I love doing . . . Dwarf stuff like . . . Dwarf-ing?" My voice pitches at the end making it appear as a question.
Kill me; kill me now.
Lord Elrond turns back to Gandalf but not before giving me a look that is half amused and half curious. Lord Elrond speaks his gobbledygook language and passes me a glance, his majestic eyebrows rising slightly. Gandalf replies, stressing his voice as he leans on his staff. Lord Elrond shakes his head, speaking more urgently and seriously than before. Gandalf sighs, his answer a one word reply before bowing his head looking very much defeated and he turns to face me with a very serious face. Oh, fuck, what have I done this time?
"As you must know," Gandalf says, returning back to faithful English gesturing to me as Lord Elrond smiles at me, though it looks slightly forced, "this is Aurora Liberty Fernwright. Quite a . . . extraordinary woman - " that's one way to put it " - now, shall we continue?" I don't like the way he used 'extraordinary' since I'm far from it.
Lord Elrond bows his head to me, his sharp gaze meeting mine for a second but that second passes and Lord Elrond turns to the other quiet Elf, speaking the gobbledygook again. The other Elf nods his head before turning towards the Dwarves, an obviously forced smile on his lips.
"Come this way," the Elf speaks with his voice too airy and perfect. Stupid Elves and their stupid perfectness. God, I envy them. The Dwarves reluctantly follow the kind Elf, passing a smiling Gandalf. I hitch up my pants that are threatening to fall as I follow the group to the sweet perfection that is food. As I pass Gandalf his hand clamps down on my shoulder, causing me to stop and look up at him.
"Not you, Libby," he says in a low, warning tone that has the budding smile on my face instantly drop. Gandalf looks away from my gaze to glance over head of me. I follow his line of sight and meet the passive face of Lord Elrond, who tries to smile as though offering me false reassurance. "Lord Elrond wishes to speak to you of your . . . predicament."
I instantly forget the rumble of my stomach or the bite of hunger as I roughly swallow my own saliva to soothe my aching throat and to add moisture to my very dry mouth. I glance between Gandalf and Lord Elrond with a defeated look before looking at the group. None of them have noticed my disappearance - save one. Kili instantly starts to look around him, as though loosing something but when he looks back, through the closing gap of the two magnificent doors, he meets my worried eyes with his own concerned brown ones. I try to send him a smile but it comes out forced and crooked, obviously showing the Dwarven Prince my distress of my situation.
I watch as he tries to makes his way towards me, all but pushing and shoving the others out of the way but by the time he's even free of the group, the doors instantly slam shut, blocking off our gaze.
And I'm alone.
Hey guys! So, this chapter is a lot more serious; it kind of shows a more serious and sad side to Libby instead of her usual joking and sarcastic self. I've tried putting in some jokes - though I know I probably failed dramatically - to lessen the seriousness of the mood.
Gosh, I'm not even a week into summer and I'm already bored. How sad is that, honestly? It's probably due to the fact I've done nothing but watch The Hobbit and L.O.T.R and Pushing Daises and sleep and read fan fiction and write fan fiction. My life is just so adventurous sometimes that I need to cool it.
Sorry for the crappy chapter but please, please, please, please review, follow and favourite! It really makes my day!
Thanks for reading!
