Chapter 11
Thorin was angry. Not annoyed, or upset, or saddened, or mildly irritated. Angry.
There was no particular reason for his being so. The traders, along with the assistants that scuttled around them, were a chatty bunch, but they were respectful and did not try to cause any discontent. His nephew, as well as Oin and Gloin, did everything they could to make the journey efficient and comfortable. The soldiers that encircled the entire group were quiet and determined when on the move, and good merry folks when camp was made.
Truly, Thorin could not place blame on any of the men, for they had done nothing wrong.
Which left the woman, Canna.
She had already befriended Kili, Oin, and Gloin, and certainly had the staunch support and hard-won respect of her soldiers. The traders were wary of her, but were respectful in their speech.
But she was different.
Thinking back, Thorin remembered Balin saying something about her hiding her true personality while in Erebor. It seemed he was right.
The changes were subtle. She was quieter, for one, and even at night when they sat to relax, her eyes surveyed her surroundings as she chuckled at a comrade's joke. She was constantly aware of their environment, and not so quick to laugh.
However, her smiles were a little more genuine, her eyes a little softer, her expressions a little more pronounced.
She was far more trouble than she was worth, Thorin decided. Why could she not be simple-minded, without so many layers?
"Do you make good money, selling onions?" Thorin heard Canna ask one of the traders.
His eyes widened. Onion…she was like an onion. With many layers, and an ability to bring on large headaches in close proximity.
He had never had such an absurd thought before…truly, she was driving him to insanity.
The road they were taking to the Iron Hills was not particularly treacherous, although the growing evil of Middle-Earth put that into question. The simplest path between the two dwarf realms was well-trodden with the recent bustle of dwarves between the reclaimed mountain and the green hills.
But this was not the road Thorin's company would take; it was too well-known and busy for a king to be traveling; if evil was lurking, they would more than likely be watching that busy path.
The road they were on now was an older and slightly longer one, but it did a well enough job of avoiding both attention and obstacles that would make the journey arduous. The traders in particular, who traveled with their wagons laden with materials, were thankful for this.
Thorin prayed to Mahal that at least this journey would pass without incident. His last journey had been anything but.
It was not until they neared the woods that Canna, Thorin, Gloin, and Kili sensed it. The most seasoned warriors of the group, they immediately slowed the pace. Canna quietly alerted her troops and ordered them to form a tighter circle around the traders. Thorin, Gloin, Kili, and Canna surrounded the soldiers atop their horses. Oin remained inside the circle, protecting the traders.
No one spoke as they continued on their journey. Canna's soldiers were nervous and jumped at any sound, and Canna felt like a shepherd, circling her herd.
Whatever presence they felt did not show itself. Kili and the soldiers, being young and thus keener-eyed, kept their eyes trained on their surroundings.
They had almost passed the woods when night fell. Thorin saw movement out of the corner of his eye, and barely yelled out a warning before the first arrow fell.
The first arrow embedded itself in one of the soldier's shoulder.
"Tarkin!" Canna exclaimed as she spurred her horse forward. Kili's arrow shot down the assailant, but soon many more arrows sped towards the dwarves, as well as armed orcs.
Canna was the first to reach them, slicing through the spawns of evil with her dual swords. With a mighty roar, Thorin was beside her, hacking through the horde atop his mount.
The traders remained where they were as all the soldiers mounted an attack on the orcs. However, only five of the thirty carried arrows or crossbows, and only Kili was experienced enough to accurately hit the orcs that hid amidst the trees.
This had to be a trap. The location gave every advantage to the orcs.
"Retreat!" Thorin yelled in Khazdul.
The wagons were already moving away. Amidst heavy fire Thorin and his company slowly moved away from the woods, the soldiers using their shields to protect themselves and each other. Canna was barking orders at her men when an arrow pierced her horse's neck. Without time to jump off, Canna went crashing to the ground with her mount. She rolled yards away from the dead horse, dazed.
Thorin did not remember a time when he had ridden so quickly on a horse.
"Go! I will follow!" he commanded Kili and Gloin.
"No, I will stay with you!" barked Kili.
"Do as I say! Lead the others!"
With a roar of frustration, Kili did as he was told and everyone picked up their pace.
Thorin leaped into the fray of approaching orcs with a fury he had not felt since the Battle of the Five Armies.
When he was close to Canna, he quickly jumped down and hoisted her onto his horse before leaping up behind her.
By some luck, no arrows hit his own mount, as Thorin fled the area with Canna.
They were almost at the bridge when the second group of orcs fell upon them.
"No!" Thorin yelled, digging his heels into his mount. They had to cross the bridge…it was their only way of crossing the river.
But the orcs were waiting. This was most certainly a trap.
Thorin just barely maneuvered his horse before an arrow pierced its hide. Dwarves were not known for their horsemanship, and at any other time he would have sent a silent prayer of thanks to his father and grandfather for his extensive riding lessons.
But now was not the time. His life, as well as that of the dwarf dam pressed against his chest, was in grave danger.
But it appeared that Canna had come out of her daze. Without warning, she ripped the horse's reins from Thorin's hands and turned the horse sharply towards the river.
"What are you doing?" the king bellowed, desperately grabbing the reins from her.
"We have to go into the river!" Canna exclaimed back, shrinking as arrows flew by their heads. "The river will carry us away! Your horse is tiring!"
This is madness. She is madness. But it was true that his horse was struggling to maintain this pace, and if his horse fell, they would have no choice anyways.
I will regret this. With one mighty tug, Thorin sent his mount flying into the river.
The force of the plunge yanked Canna and Thorin away from the horse and each other.
For what felt like eternity, Thorin felt the underwater currents yanking him as if he were a rag. Dwarves were not swimmers, and he was barely proficient.
And then a pair of arms encircled his waist. They attempted to push him upwards, and with the last of his strength, Thorin pumped his legs.
The cold air filled Thorin's lungs as he gasped, and then the currents pulled him under once more.
This time, Thorin looked at the person whose hand held his. With her braid swirling around like a serpent, Canna squeezed his hand and smiled. She smiled at him. Underwater.
If not for the absurdity of their situation, Thorin would have smiled back.
Retaining her hold on his hand and intertwining their fingers, Canna began pulled him forward. She appeared to be much more comfortable with the water than Thorin did, so he did as she wished him to.
The river's currents were too strong to resist, but Canna persevered. Thorin wondered why they did not stay near the surface, but when they did go up for a gulp of air, he realized why.
If they had stayed near the surface, the arrows would have killd them in no time.
The orcs still pursued them from the shores, although they were dwindling in number. Their shrieks prompted the dwarves to dive down once more, using the raging waters as protection.
How long they kept this up, Thorin did not know. But eventually, the river flowed too quickly for the orcs to keep up. Canna and Thorin were both beyond weary from fighting the currents.
It was the sight of hooves in the water that gave them their last strength. It appeared that, in pursuit of the dwarves, the orcs had neglected to pursue their horse as well. And horses were much stronger swimmers than dwarves.
With their last bits of strength, Canna and Thorin swam to the panicked horse and grabbed its reins. Without the threat of orcs, they were able to stay near the surface, gasping for air.
Canna caught Thorin's eye. "Just hold on!" she yelled over the bellow of the raging water.
Thorin nodded before closing his eyes, hoping against hope that his horse would carry them to safety.
The feeling of rough dirty grating against her back was the best sensation Canna had felt in a long time. With a gasp, she pried her clenched fingers off of the horse's reins, her head crashing to the earth.
How many times would she fell this day?
With a start, Canna remembered that she had not gotten here alone.
King.
In painstakingly slow movements, Canna managed to get onto all fours on the rough shore of the river.
Mere feet from her, lay Thorin Oakenshield.
Canna crawled – yes, crawled – to the dwarf till she was by his side. His eyes were closed, but he was clearly taking deep breaths.
"Oy, open your eyes," the maiden grunted, patting his cheek. "We are safe now. Open your eyes."
When the grey eyes, strangely soft, met hers, Canna could not stop herself from giving him a happy – albeit weary – smile.
"We are safe now," she repeated. She had no idea where they were, or how they would ever reach the Iron Hills, but still…
"We are safe."
For those of you who have been giving me regular feedback (y'all know who you are), I never thought you would still be with me after all this time!
And the reviews I got, both from new and old friends, were so kind, you guys are really inspirational! Hence this chapter which I wasn't planning on working on until this weekend.
Hope you like it, let me know what you think!
