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After my talk with Lord Elrond, I had felt strange waiting in the garden. Almost like I was hot and itchy at the same time, waiting for something that wouldn't come. But what was I waiting for? Acceptance? Friendship? Was I waiting for the ghosts of my dead parents and baby sister to come and guide me, comfort me? The thoughts made me feel like there was an army of ants marching across my skin. I stood up and began walking away with quick strides, eager to leave the garden-and my unanswerable questions-behind.
Without knowing it, my feet had led me into the elven fortress, and up a series of tucked-away staircases and half-forgotten hallways, until I was in a long, wide, breezy hall. I stopped when I saw two people standing, not 20 feet away, discussing in low tones. I backed away, but one of them looked up. "Ah!" She said, taking a step towards me. Her long white dress billowed in the slight breeze from the many open archways in the hall. "Don't be afraid."
I hadn't thought I was afraid, but as soon as she said those words, I realized my heart was racing. I cast a swift glance at the man behind her. He was frowning. I dropped a quick curtsy, trying to remember all the rules my mother had taught me. "My lady." I inclined my head towards the grumpy-guss behind her. "My lord."
"You must be Edolie," said the elf woman.
I looked at her, startled. "But...how did you..."
"Gandalf has spoken fondly of you," she told me. How strange. Gandalf didn't mention meeting an elf lady to anybody in the company, and I almost certainly hadn't been gone long enough for him to leave the dining hall, find this lady, and talk to her...about me, of all people!
"Well, um, I...I can't say the same about you, um..."
"Lady Galadriel. And this is Saruman." She turned, indicating the man behind her with a sweep of her arm. He had long white hair, a matching beard, and a long, hooked nose. He nodded curtly.
"Pleasure to meet you. My lady, I advise you to wait in the Council Room. I'll be there with Gandalf shortly."
"Yes, of course," replied Lady Galadriel. She turned back to me. "I'm afraid I'll have to postpone this until later. A pleasure meeting you."
"You as well," I told her. I could feel the pointed glare from Saruman, telling me plain as the beaked nose on his face to get out. With a quick curtsy, I ran from the room.
As I retraced my steps back into the heart of the stone fortress, I literally ran into Balin coming down the stairs, followed by Thorin and Bilbo. I stumbled back, falling hard onto my backside. "Ow!"
"Sorry, lass," said Balin hastily. He extended a hand to help me up.
"Our time is short, Balin," Thorin said curtly. "We have to leave soon."
"We're leaving?" I asked, standing up and dusting myself off.
"Yes. We have to be on our way to Erebor."
I looked at Bilbo, confused. I'll tell you later, he mouthed. I nodded and turned to Thorin. "I'll get Gandalf. He may be in a meeting, but-"
"No," he commanded. "We'll meet him later."
I opened my mouth to speak, but Thorin gave me a hard, stern look. Shutting my mouth, I trailed after them.
The majority of elves were either feasting or spending some quiet time in their quarters with books or their families, so it was easy for us to slip out of Rivendell. I had wanted to rebandage my arm and pack some extra supplies for it, but Thorin had insisted we leave immediately, so I only had the green salve the elf healer had given me.
"Be on your guard," ordered Thorin as we trekked out of Rivendell. "We're about to step over the edge of the wild."
Mother had always called me an incurable romantic, but romantic or not, those words gave me a pleasurable thrill. But I was immediately saddened as I remembered the stories Father used to tell us about fairies and elfs and friendly giants that lived in the wild. He would tell me those stories when I was little, and when my sister Arria had been born, he had told her those same stories. I had stayed awake listening to them, feeling the nostalgia and love of my childhood.
"Master Baggins. Miss Lander." Thorin's cold voice tore me out of my thoughts like somebody ripping a piece of cloth in two; like he was tearing me from a part of myself. "I suggest you keep up with the group."
I was unaware that I had stopped and stared at the beautiful, wild countryside. Blushing, I hurried to catch up.
We had walked for a while, and the misty rain that had been almost pleasant when we left Rivendell turned into a fierce deluge. I shivered uncontrollably, the bandage on my broken arm uncomfortably drenched. "It's so c-c-c-old," I said, my teeth chattering, but my words were stolen away and flung out like a banner by the wind. As we traveled on, the road became increasingly treacherous.
"Hold on," commanded Thorin. I tried, but have you ever tried to hold on to a slippery rock wall, in a storm, with only one arm? It's not easy, I assure you. Bilbo, however, had a harder time. He slipped, and with a cry, dropped. Dwalin grabbed him and hauled him back onto the rock ledge.
It became apparent that we needed shelter, but there was none. Just an unrelenting, heartless wall of rock. I almost cried, but I figured I had enough water on my face.
I looked up and screamed. A massive boulder was hurtling towards us. "Look out!" I pressed against the rock wall, unable to scream with the paralyzing fear in my chest. Stones struck us, but luckily not huge chunks of crushing rock. What kind of storm-
"This is no thunderstorm," announced Balin as if answering my unspoken question. "It's a thunder-battle! Look!" He pointed. In the foggy distance, I saw a huge stone being rise up, almost shaking itself. It ripped another huge piece of stone off a nearby mountain.
"The legends are true," I whispered. Father had told us a story of stone giants, but these had been friendly creatures who had helped a lost trader caravan find their way home. These were behemoths who would kill us like an offending fly. All of watched dumbstruck, as another stone giant rose from behind us. I was beyond feeling now, and the rest that happened was a blur. A cracking noise, and then drifting away from part of the Company like a leaf on the water.
"Kili, grab my hand! KILI!"
Kili stared after his brother, terror gnawing at him. Never in his life had he and his brother been separated like this. Around him, he could hear the cries of the other dwarves. Except for Edolie. She stood on the edge of the cliff, staring at the rest of the Company that was still anchored on solid ground, her face as blank as the impassive mountainside. Kili turned to see the rock giant nearest the one they were riding on lumber towards them, smashing his head into theirs. The dwarves were pitched about, but Kili saw an opportunity. "Jump!" He called to the company. All of them jumped, except Edolie, whose eyes were still fixed on the opposite mountain range. Was she mad? "Edolie!" He yelled.
She paid him no heed. Kili saw she was dangerously close to slipping off the mountainside. Clutching onto the rock wall, he grabbed her arm and pulled her towards him. She seemed to come back alive here, and realizing the danger of one jumping while holding his hand, quickly pried his fingers off her arm. "Jump!" She commanded. They both leapt for the still side of the mountain, rolling into the landing. Edolie let out a cry as she landed, and Kili saw instantly she had banged her broken arm. She sat up, gently probing, wincing.
"Are you..." His gaze had drifted upwards, and he saw the rock giant that had been their vessel just moments earlier come falling towards them. "Get down!" He launched himself at Edolie, shielding her as the huge creature crashed down.
