OMG I'm sorry I haven't updated in the past few weeks! I've been busy with final projects and papers in my college classes as the semester is coming to a close. I swear the professors wait until the end of the semester to give you all the homework and assignments, and it really pisses me off. Oh well. Here's a longer chapter for you, thank you so much for reading, adding this story, and commenting! It really makes my day.

Feel free to check out my new story, Pawn. It's an original, and it's really my first time ever posting something like that. Please let me know what you think! I have a preview of Pawn at the end of this chapter for any of you who are interested!

Cheers!

Ally Layne.

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

She was exhausted.

Her mother used to tell her that shedding tears will sometimes make things better, rather than holding it in. However, this time, Huntress has realized her mother got it wrong. She wasn't feeling better. If anything, she was feeling worse.

Last night she decided to sleep farther away from the others and has been keeping to the outskirts of the group as much as she can. Huntress didn't want to get into another yelling match with Thorin or Dwalin. She didn't know if she'd be able to make it through another one.

Gandalf had been kind to her after seeing the state that she was in the previous night, and Bilbo started to move closer to her side while they were riding through the woods. The dwarves kept their distance.

Huntress was glad they did. She didn't know if she wanted to talk about it, anyway.

Currently, while they were riding through the forests that would lead them to Imladris, at least, if Gandalf and Huntress had their way.

The dwarves were talking amongst themselves, telling stories of the kingdoms of old, and the legends that have been passed on from generation to generation. Huntress normally would love to listen and participate in those discussions, but she felt far too raw to be around them.

Especially after what had been said to her last night.

Her eyes were starting to droop, but she fought to keep them open. She had hardly slept last night, as every time she found herself dozing off the screams of her people would soon echo in her nightmares.

She decided she didn't need to sleep.

Not if that was going to happen.

"You look like you're going to fall off your horse," Gandalf told Huntress gruffly, before taking a puff from his pipe.

Huntress chose to ignore him and continued to keep her gaze on the trail in front of her.

"You cannot keep running from this, you know," he continued. "It is perfectly normal to grieve for those you have lost."

She stiffened. "Why do you say that?"

The old wizard looked at her thoughtfully. "You have not taken time to grieve for your brother's demise, Lady Huntress. Perhaps you should let yourself do so."

Her eyes flickered to the dwarves riding on their ponies in front of them. "I am not in proper company to do so."

Gandalf's eyes held a mysterious glint that Huntress didn't recognize. "I think you are in perfect company to do so, my friend. Maybe, you should consider building relationships rather than pushing them away."

She choked on her spit in shock. "I did no such thing!"

The wizard shrugged carelessly. "You have not made it easy for them to trust you, either."

Her steely grey eyes glared at the side of his head aggressively. "I have been perfectly amiable, Mithrandir. It is they who should require more proper manners."

Bilbo, who had been riding near the duo, scoffed. "Manners? You'd assume they would be cordial and have proper manners?"

She held in a growl. "Don't sass me, Hobbit."

Bilbo's eyes widened, and he quickly pursed his lips to hide any retort.

On the other hand, Gandalf raised a brow at her show of anger. "Just listen to yourself, my dear. You must become more understanding if we are to succeed in this quest."

She narrowed her gaze. "I am not the one at fault, Mithrandir."

Gandalf grinned. "Of course not, Lady Huntress. However, you must understand where they are coming from, and their own understandings, if you are to properly discern the situation."

Her eyebrows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

She knew he had her hooked. "What I mean, dear Huntress is that Thorin Oakenshield believed the beast that killed his family and nearly wiped out the line of Durin had been dead for the past hundred years or so. Imagine the emotions that you would feel if you experienced the same."

She bit her lip. "That still doesn't excuse his reaction. He insulted my family, Mithrandir. My family. You cannot expect me to let that go."

The wizard remained silent for a moment, pondering over his thoughts.

"I can, and I will."

Huntress's eyebrows skyrocketed. "What?"

Gandalf took a breath before speaking, knowing that he was going to need to speak with a silver tongue if he were to get anywhere with the Ranger. "The Northern Rangers are shrouded by the secrets that you must keep. It is hard for others to understand why you do what you do-"

"We keep secrets to protect our people!" She exclaimed, tightening her hold on the reigns. "They needn't know any more than that."

The wizard nodded. "Yes, of course. I understand that, Lady Huntress. But these dwarves do not. Do your best to understand what the actions of the Rangers may look like to those who do not understand their reasonings. The Rangers keep secrets to protect the world and your people. But what if those secrets are what lead them to not trust you?"

Huntress blinked.

Of course, she thought. This is why they act the way they do.

"But that doesn't excuse Thorin and Dwalin for their actions," Huntress insisted. "They insulted my character and my family. Having a lack of trust and understanding of someone doesn't mean you can treat them that way."

Gandalf shrugged his shoulder half-heartedly, turning his gaze to the King in exile himself. "You did put a blade to his neck, you know. I would assume Dwalin would have enough cause to step in and help his King after that."

Huntress replayed the fight in her head, letting out a sigh when she realized that Gandalf was right. "But Thorin-"

"Thorin Oakenshield is a stubborn dwarf," Gandalf cut her off before waving a hand in acknowledgment. "He is most likely one of the most stubborn of their race. You should come to realize that he typically speaks first, then thinks later."

She snorted. "That doesn't make him sound like good King material."

He shrugged again. "Perhaps. But it does make him an excellent warrior, and a passionate leader."

Huntress let out a soft chuckle. "Of course, it does."

Gandalf nodded to her as he moved on ahead, leaving her behind with plenty to think about. Maybe he was right. Maybe, just maybe, she had been overreacting.

She could see it, now. The dwarves had different social understandings, and from what she had witnessed, one of their priorities in their social circles was grounded in trust. This was completely different from the Southern Courts in Gondor, where social circles were merely a game to be played.

Gandalf started to share his own stories with the company, and they became completely enraptured by the wizard. Huntress, having heard Gandalf's stories hundreds of times on their adventures, looked on fondly.

Thorin, Dwalin and Balin were leading the pack, all in a straight line across. Thorin was in the middle, as was customary. Balin was on his right, Dwalin on his left.

They seemed to be discussing something intently, completely ignoring the stories pouring out of Gandalf's lips.

"Do you have any other stories, Gandalf?" Bilbo asked once the wizard had finished.

Gandalf leaned back in the saddle as he smiled smugly. "Of course, I do, Master Baggins. Plenty of years' worth, in fact. However, I do recall the Lady Huntress being quite the storyteller herself. Perhaps she should share a story."

Mother-

"Lady Huntress! Tell us a story!" Kíli demanded, his cheeky grin wide and mischievous.

"Yes, Lady Huntress, you must!" Fíli exclaimed.

The sentiment was quickly echoed by the other dwarves who had been listening, making Huntress wave them off with a roll of her eyes. To be honest, she was surprised to discover they were willing to take her back with open arms so quickly. "Fine, you scoundrels. I'll tell you a story."

Cheers erupted from the company.

"Oi! Knock if off if you want to hear anything!"

They stopped.

If I had known all it took was telling them a story, I would've done it earlier, she thought.

She noticed Thorin start to slow down his pony's pace to listen in. She chose not to acknowledge it, though.

"Once upon a time-"

"Why you gotta start it like that?" Bofur asked, annoyance seeping in his tone.

"Yeah!" Gloin exclaimed. "Why you oughta start like that?"

Huntress rolled her eyes. "If you want me to tell you a story, you probably shouldn't be talking and interrupting me," she spoke as calm as death. "Now, let me tell my story."

She took a dramatic deep breath, then continued, "Once upon a time, there was a girl-"

"Wait, this is going to be about humans?" Dori gasped from behind her. "They're a rather odd sort, aren't they?"

Huntress turned her body around to face the dwarf. "Let me tell my story, Master Dori."

Ori, Bofur, and the two princes of Erebor laughed. "That rhymed," Kíli spoke, slapping his knee in humor. "Lady Huntress, you should be a bard!"

She grit her teeth to try and keep herself calm. She remembered her discussion with Gandalf and supposed that it wouldn't be good if she just started verbally insulting the dwarves. They are a rowdy bunch, so she should expect there to be at least some interruptions.

"For Yavanna's sake, let the poor woman speak!" Bilbo cried, waving his arms in exasperation.

Huntress snorted but tried to hide it with a cough as the other dwarves started complaining to Bilbo about interrupting them. Blue eyes that belonged to the King met hers. Her smile faded and immediately looked somewhere else, not ready to face him quite yet.

"Continue on, lass," Balin commented, immediately silencing the rest of the dwarves without another word. Huntress grinned at the old dwarf, who nodded in return.

"Thank you, Master Balin. Now, back to the story," she eyed a few of the younger dwarves, namely the two princes who wore their usual looks of mischief. "Once upon a time, there was a girl who was born noble and fit to be a princess. Her name was Snow White, as her skin was the fairest of all, and her hair was as dark as a raven's. She was betrothed to a prince of a neighboring kingdom, although, she never met him before. After her mother was killed in childbirth, her stepmother, the queen, married her father for his fortune rather than love."

"This ain't gonna end well," Bofur muttered to Ori, who nodded in agreement.

Huntress decided to let that go, and continued, "This queen was especially vain. She was proud to be the most beautiful woman in the kingdom, a fact told to her by the magic mirror that sees all."

"Sounds like somethin' the elves have," Dwalin grunted, turning to his brother. "The elves and their magic..."

"Be quiet, brother," Balin told him.

"Every day it became a ritual. The queen would indeed look into the mirror and speak, 'Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?' and the mirror would always reply, 'you, my queen.'"

"She sounds like a piece of work," Kíli mumbled, causing Fíli to extend his arm and shove his brother nearly off his pony.

Huntress smiled at the pair. Her niece would knock Estel off his horse when he bothered her, too. "However, once Snow White grew in age, the mirror could not lie to the queen. She asked the mirror, 'Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?', and the mirror replied, 'Snow White, my queen.'

"When the queen heard this, she was in shock. Then, she became angry. How dare Snow White be the most beautiful and fairest of the entire kingdom? So, she knew there was one thing she had to do: she called for the best huntsman in the lands and told him to cut out the girl's heart then bring it to her as proof he had done his duty to the kingdom."

"That seems like she's being a bit dramatic," Ori pointed out with a raise of his hand.

Huntress quickly nodded in agreement. "I would never condone this, Master Ori. However, this is what happens in the story, so I shall tell it so."

"Please continue, Lady Huntress," Gandalf told her, with a quick wink.

She pursed her lips in thought. What was the old coot up to now?

"When the huntsman took Snow White out into the woods, instead of carving out her heart for the queen, he told her of her deception and begged the young princess to run. Snow White, astounded that her stepmother would do such a thing, ran into the dark forest alone."

"What did the Huntsman do, then? Did he run off, too?" Fíli asked.

"The huntsman carved out the heart of a deer instead and offered it the queen who had no clue as to what happened. This gave Snow White and the Huntsman enough time to escape the kingdom, both going different ways.

"Snow found a little cottage in a small meadow in the middle of the forest. She quickly hurried there to seek shelter from the evil queen. However, when she got close enough to the cottage, she noticed something rather peculiar. The door was far too short for any man to comfortably fit through!"

"Is it a hobbit's home?" Bilbo asked excitedly.

Huntress shook her head.

"Let me guess, it's a home for some wayward dwarves!" Bofur exclaimed. "Of course it is, especially if they ain't living in the mountains."

She smiled at the excited dwarf, which led others to follow Bofur's example and grin in anticipation. "You're right, Master Bofur. The cottage did belong to dwarves. Seven dwarves, in fact."

"Were they exiled by their Lord? Or were they merchants of some sort?" Gloin asked.

Huntress shrugged. "I guess you could say that they're merchants, but-"

Then, the sky began to pour.

Huntress immediately flipped up her hood as the others tried to do the same.

"I will finish the story later, Master Dwarves," she called out to the others, who were trying to get themselves settled in the cold and wet weather.

She almost felt bad that they didn't have the ranger's cloaks, which provided warmth and were rain and water resistant. There was a layer of some sort of wax on the outside of the cloak that allowed the rain to roll off.

"Nah, we can still hear ya, lassie," Nori called.

"I cannae hear anythin!" Oin exclaimed, holding the listening contraption to his ear, but grimacing and pulling it away as the water started to drain from it. "We best wait for later, lassie!"

"I promise to tell you the rest later," she said. "Let's just get through this rain first."

She edged back over to where Gandalf was riding close to Bilbo and decided to stick near them for the time being. She still wasn't sure how she sat with the dwarves and thought that it would be best to try not to test the boundaries just yet.

Huntress let out a laugh at Gandalf's face after Dori asked for him to stop the rain, which ended up starting a conversation of the different wizards that roamed Middle Earth. She, having already heard stories of the other wizards and meeting Saruman himself in her previous meetings with the White Council.

The white wizard scared her for some reason, and she wasn't sure if it was the power that he held. Lady Galadriel didn't scare her. So why should Saruman?

She found herself lost in her thoughts until she heard a slight burly cough sound out from beside her. As soon as she turned to greet whoever it was, her eyes widened.

"Master Dwalin-"

The massive dwarf cut her off with a wave of his thick hand. "Lassie, please, let me talk to ya here."

Huntress swallowed before nodding.

"I-uh just wanted to tell ye that I've never fought a lass like you in all my years. Perhaps, if you'd be willing, we can teach each other the fighting styles of our people," Dwalin continued, although the ending sounded a bit painful for him to be saying out loud.

That's probably as close to an apology that I'll ever receive from the dwarf.

"Thank you, Master Dwalin. I will be sure to take time to spar with you in the future," she agreed with a small smile. Dwalin nodded and turned to face forward to where Balin and Thorin were riding with a look of pained pride.

"By any chance, was it your brother that urged you to speak with me?" Huntress asked, quirking her head to where the two older dwarves rode.

Dwalin sputtered, and a soft blush tinted his cheeks. "Well, I-no, of course not-but, well, yes, he did."

Huntress laughed. "It's fine, Master Dwalin. Gandalf spoke to me about my brazen behavior last night, as well. I should be apologizing to you and King Thorin for my actions."

An odd look crossed over the dwarf's face. "Aye. Well, lassie, I accept that apology. And I do hope to be able to spar with ye in the future."

She smiled. "I as well."

He nodded, before heading off to ride closer to his brother and the dwarven king. Thorin, after hearing Dwalin come trotting up, turned to look at her in the eye, which confused the ranger. How could he go from being so stand-offish like last night, to seeking a form of contact?

But Huntress was never one to bow out of a stare-off. She quirked an eyebrow at the King, who's lips tilted up into what could have been a grin if he weren't so overbearing. Then, as quick as it began, he turned away.

She didn't even know if that happened, or if she had just imagined it.

Huntress figured she was really going to have to learn more about dwarven social cues if she were going to survive this quest.

As the sun started to sink further into the west, Thorin's conversation with Balin and Dwalin had become terser and shorter, leaving Huntress to figure they were talking about a sensitive subject for the dwarf.

It was when he slowed down his horse and made his way to ride along her side that she realized what they had been discussing.

"Lady Huntress, may I have a word?" he asked in his regal kingly voice.

Huntress nodded wordlessly with a cautious eye.

Thorin pursed his lips, let out a breath, and continued, "It has come to my attention that I have acted less than proper to you in our quarrel from last night. I have come to realize that I may partially be at fault for those actions, and I would like to apologize."

She gaped.

"I know I should not have said some of the things I did, and for that, you have my deepest regrets. We come from different lives, you and I, and I suppose I should do a better job understanding those differences." He paused, and added with a soft smile, "As well as our similarities."

Is this really happening?

"Thank you, Master Dwarf," Huntress breathed. "I must apologize for my actions as well-"

He shook his head. "No, it was I who initiated the fight, and it is I who owe you retribution."

She shook her head quickly. "No, no retribution is needed for me, Oakenshield. I don't need that to trust you are being in earnest."

A soft smile drew on Thorin's weary face. "Really? You would take my word for it?"

Huntress shrugged. "Why would I not?"

It was Thorin's turn to repeat the action. "I am not sure. Dwarrowdams normally would be crying out for a trial and demanding a beard or honorary combat."

Her eyes widened considerably. "From your time living amongst men, I'd assume you'd know we have different traditions, Master Dwarf."

He tilted his head slightly. "Well, my apologies once more for not understanding you were just trying to help us. I did honestly believe you were insulting my honor-"

"Why would I do that?"

Thorin pursed his lips. "Most men have done so in the past."

"Do I look like most men?"

He pretended to look over the ranger with a diligent gaze. "Not from what I see, you aren't. I should have trusted you, and I apologize for not doing so."

She sighed. "I accept your apology, and I am sorry for lashing out as I did. It was uncalled for, even in the height of emotion, and I overreacted." She let out another breath, "I wish I could promise not to do it again, but I know myself better than that."

Thorin chuckled. "I would not expect you to, Lady Huntress."

A smile became plastered on her face. "Call me Arathelle, Master Dwarf."

His blue eyes grew in size. "Arathelle?"

She laughed. "Well, that is my name, so I think that is what you should call me."

He swallowed visibly. "On that case, it's a pleasure to have you in this company, Lady Arathelle."

She winked. "It's a pleasure to serve you, your majesty."

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

As promised, here is the preview to my new original story, Pawn:

Life is a game

We never intended to play.

Detective Ophelia Blake has officially lost everything. Her friends and family have all died at the hands of the one person she couldn't catch- the deadly Nightshade. Wallowing in defeat, the genius packs her bags and heads from New York City to St. Paul, Minnesota where she hopes to leave her past behind.

If only it were that simple.

After a chance meeting with the mysterious billionaire Mr. Thorne along with his comedic driver Archie, she becomes immersed into the world of the rich and wealthy. She quickly discovers that her past will not stay in the past, and finds much more danger than before.

Will Ophelia learn how to defeat her demons?

Or will she end up like her namesake- driven into madness?

Link to story on my page!