Chapter 2: Worries and Rings
The company follows the lead of Thorin and Gailien. After meditating for over two hours the previous night, she saw enough to be able to determine the Orcs' path relative to their own. Her slightly pointed ears can hear the trickle of shallow water over rocks and that is where she leads them to.
"This way," she says to their leader, jogging through some more foliage. Thorin looks behind him, making sure his company are keeping up well enough. They have not seen any sign of the hunting pack in five days, but it would be foolish to think that they are not far behind. Only her foresight and Bilbo's scouting has kept them hidden this long. The beginning of autumn has arrived, and their time is starting to tick, a constant clock in his head. Sometimes Gailien leads them in an obscure direction, away from their intended path and his instinct twitch to ignore her advice and stay on the track but his trust in her runs deep enough to silence that instinct.
The shallow creek finally reveals itself. Maybe deep enough to cover up to their mid-shins, enough to cloak their scent. "Here!" The company catch up, congregating at the creek bank. Gailien points out to the direction the current flows from. "I've seen them cross the water and head that way. If we travel down through the water following the current, it will mask our scent enough to put distance between us and them."
"Well, what are we waiting for!" Dwalin exclaims, becoming the first to walk into the water. Her guess is right, as the water reaches his mind shins, the water riding higher as he stands against the current. At his lead, the rest of the company wade in. Some groan as their boots and pants become drenched and Gailien feels the same way but the water irks her for different reasons. The same way heights do.
Even Gandalf is heard grumbling as his grey robes darken. Gailien wades through with the company, letting the others move ahead as her lead is finished.
"You seem a little off today," Fili muses as he and his brother wade through the water on either side of her.
"Yes," Kili agrees with a hint of mirth. "Like something is on your mind."
Gailien looks between them with scrutinising eyes. Indeed, something has been on her mind, two things in fact. But neither would warrant such a suggestive tone from the princes. "I have some things on my mind that I wish to discuss with Gandalf," she answers, watching them for their reactions.
"And what are these things?" Fili questions, no sense of privacy. "Not to do with a certain Dwarf, are they? Though, I'm not sure why you would want to speak about that to Gandalf?"
"I don't know. He's old, he might have some good advice," Kili banters with his brother. Gailien snaps her head between the two.
"I have absolutely no idea what you both are on about. I need to speak with Gandalf about something I saw many weeks ago that has nothing to do with Dwarves or the company," she says, ending their little conversation over her.
"Oh, well that sounds boring," Kili remarks with a shrivelled nose as his interest is lost. Gailien rolls her eyes but smiles at their company.
"What were you both doing last night that got Thorin in such a snap?" Gailien questions, recalling Thorin's blazing glare at the both of them. "And in your native tongue at that."
Kili stays silently, his eyes wandering around the sparse woods, forcing his brother to answer. "We were uh…talking," Fili stumbles out.
Gailien raises a brow, tilting her head slightly in apprehension. "Talking? I'm not sure I believe that. For one, I didn't hear either of you speak and I doubt Thorin would be cross with you for talking."
"Well, it wasn't verbal as such. Dwarves have a secret hand language that we can talk with," he explains. Gailien is still confused.
"Was he angry because he didn't want me to see it? As a non-Dwarf I mean," she questions. Both of them shake their heads quickly.
"Nah, the whole purpose of it is so we can talk in front of enemies without them hearing – not that you're an enemy!" Kili says, voice rising slightly at the end. "He just saw what we were talking about."
Her suspicions are raised but her mind reels it in. "I probably don't want to even know what it was about, so I won't ask," she mutters. What could such a topic be that would warrant them needing to use a silent language and for Thorin's reaction. They are jokesters, so perhaps they were planning on some type of practical joke on another member. As long as she is not the victim…
The Dwarves begin exiting the creek, back onto a grassy field with a few large rocks to at as a cover for both them and their fire. The creek itself ends as well into a large, dark pond. At least the Dwarves will be able to bath and rid themselves of the growing stench. Not that she is clean herself.
Thorin sends out the usual orders, having camp set up between two large rocks which provide cover from both the direction the Orcs should be travelling from and the pond itself. At least she will not have to worry about diverting her eyes. Ever since Rivendell, she has been very vigilant about avoiding them during their bathing time.
Taking up her usual job, she places her pack near the side and then sets out in search of food for fuel. Once her arms are weighed down, she returns to camp, dumping them on the ground in the middle where Bombur is already beginning to prepare their dinner.
"I don't know what we'd do without you, Bombur," she grins. "I can barely cook well enough to serve myself." Her knees fall to the ground as she and Bofur begin putting the fire pit together.
"Well I didn't get this big waiting for other people to serve me food," he retorts with a joyful smile that glints in his eyes. Gailien laughs, turning her head to Bofur.
"How are your carvings coming along? Anything new?"
"Ah! I've been trying to get the details right in a fish," he says, sighing at the end. "But those scales are driving me over the edge."
"Well, take your time with them, there is no rush."
Gailien still has the small wooden bear tucked away in her pack. Whenever her hands need to fiddle with something she would take it out, letting her fingers trace the grooves until she could memorise every detail about it.
"Oi!" Thorin calls out to the company. "Go wash yourselves you filthy lot!" The Dwarves cheer, already beginning to strip off their outer clothing. Bombur assures her that dinner just needs a few stirs but will fine cooking until he returns. Everybody par Gandalf and Gailien leave, even Bilbo and Thorin leaving to go down to the water. She will wash later when it is dark and with less possible prying eyes – not that she thinks any would on purpose, but she already knows that it can happen without intention.
With no better time than the present, Gailien saunters over to Gandalf's spot, perched on a lower flat of the rock. "I was fearing my nostrils would never smell fresh air again," she jokes as the Dwarves all disappear.
"I was thinking the same until you sat down." Gailien's jaw drops in offence but before she can protest, she sniffs herself slightly then finds nothing but agreement to his words.
"Don't worry, I'll go down later," she laughs. "But I do have something that I would like to discuss."
"I was wondering when you would tell me," he says in his typical knowing tone. Gailien gives him a look but ignores it.
"Back before the Goblins, I had a prophecy," she begins to explain. "Bilbo was alive and seemingly well but old. So, it mustn't be pass one hundred years from now. I saw Mordor, Gandalf. Mordor and a ring."
"Did you now?"
"I am not oblivious to this world's history. I know it has to be the one ring. But there was war, and so much bloodshed." Her voice falters into horror at the image of the corpses. Corpses of all races. "Sauron is rising, isn't he? That is why you leave so often? You're seeing to the growing evils, to see if they're true."
"I fear your prophecy will become true," Gandalf admits darkly, his pipe tucked between tight lips. "And yes, that is what I have been doing."
"But this quest? It won't interfere with the Dwarves, will it? We are barely keeping a single Orc party off our trail and we still have to face Smaug," she questions with a deep-rooted concern. Even from here, she can hear laughter and splashing of water.
"I think you would be better at answering that than me," he replies with a tilted head. Gailien nods, scratching her neck. Not only has she been trying to keep track of their own future, but the future beyond their current path – to see if she can foretell the events at Erebor but she has been shown nothing but half-second flashes that are so quick that she has not been able to make anything of them. It seems that their future is so undetermined that even she cannot read it. Every decision they make will count. "You know," Gandalf says, his tone shifting as he changes the topic, "I never expected you to grow so fond of the Dwarves, or them to you. I thought you would tolerate each other enough after a while but both you and Bilbo have proven to be more than you appear."
"It is hard not to grow fond of them when you spend every day with them." Her mouth tweaks up into an affection smile as a few Dwarves start making their way back to camp, their hair damp and dripping. "You see past their hard exteriors."
"That you do," Gandalf agrees in his typical all-knowing mysterious way.
Xx
With their bellies full, the company sit around the campfire and listen to stories that Gailien is sure each Dwarf exaggerates but it provides entertainment, nonetheless. Most nights they would go straight to sleep after small chatter, but everybody seems in a good enough mood and with the Orcs off their tail for a little while longer, it seems fit to enjoy the night.
All except for Gailien.
Bofur is the one talking at the moment, narrating a story where he and Bifur were at a tavern and some men wanted to pick a fight with them. He uses his mouth to audible describe every sound as his hands flail in the air dramatically. All the Dwarves listen intently, laughing or arguing with the details.
But Gailien's mind has been running over what Thorin had said the previous night. After they finish the quest. What is she to do? She has no home, no family or friends that she longs to return to. These Dwarves, whether they know it or not, have become that for her. And yet, she will have to leave them all behind. Why couldn't she have been born a Dwarf? Or a Hobbit and never have left the Shire.
Feeling like her moping mood is polluting the joyous atmosphere, Gailien silently excuses herself from the camp. She has already washed but her feet take her down to the deep pond and the sound of the Dwarves grows small and smaller. The pond is silent, void of ripples or any sign of life.
This is what her life is going to be like. The sound of other's happiness ringing in her ears as she stands alone in silence. She lets her weight pull her down, her backside sitting in the dampen grass, no doubt from waves of water sent up onto the bank from earlier. Sliding her boots off, her legs rest out in front of her, letting her feet swirl around in the pond.
"Sick of their stories?" Gailien nearly jumps out of her skin as she didn't even hear him come up to her. "Sorry, you just didn't look like you should be left alone."
Fili sits down next to her but crosses his legs instead. "No, they're wonderful. I just need to think," she shrugs, not wanting to burden him with her own problems. "You can go back if you want. I'm afraid I won't be the best company."
"That just gives me all the more reason to stay," he replies without a beat missing. "You need somebody to talk to you and won't hold any judgement." Gailien stays quiet, debating in her head whether she should say anything or not. "Did you see something that is worrying you?"
"No, I just…." She sighs, frowning as she looks over her shoulder, barely able to see the edge of the company from her view. "I've haven't had someone I could call my family for a long time. I've been searching for most of my life for somewhere that I can belong, to feel normal in."
"Has someone said something ill to you?" Fili questions with a large frown, causing deep wrinkles in his forehead and his eyes. Gailien shakes her head, smiling pathetically.
"No, it's the exact opposite!" Her head falls into her hands as her toes dig into the mix of dirt and rock in the water. "This company… I finally feel like I belong somewhere. I feel at home with all of you. Even Dori! And I can't help but think about what is going to happen after this quest ends. I'm assuming all of you will stay in the mountain. Bilbo will return to the Shire. And I'll be…wandering again."
Fili listens to her words intently. He personally, had never thought about what would happen to their two non-Dwarf members after the quest. He just dismissed it as they will return home. But she has none. "When we reclaim Erebor, you should stay with us," he offers, placing a hand on her shoulder. Gailien peeks out of her hands.
"I don't think it is entirely your place to offer such a thing," she answers slowly. Fili shrugs, not worried in the slightest.
"Thorin wouldn't object. Actually, I'm sure he would insist," Fili muses with a small smile in an attempt to cheer her up. "Thorin is just as fond of you as Kili is and my brother hardly leaves your side." This does earn a short snort of laughter, her chest vibrating. "Thorin even had Dwalin ask him to sharpen some of their axes just to give you a break." His words are spoken in truth as the younger brother is nearly around her just as much as he is around Fili. She is keen on his company though and would not change it for the world. But then her mood sours once again.
"Yes, but what about when the other Dwarves return to their home. The ones that don't know me. All they see will be these-" she tucks her hair away, letting her slightly pointed ear poke through "-and they will not have the chance to know me as you all do. I'll face the same thing I do everywhere else."
"Maybe you should learn to ignore them." Gailien frowns, not sure if she should feel offended. Fili shakes his head, squeezing her shoulder. "I don't mean to sound harsh, but wherever you go you are going to face the same problem because there are always going to be people who don't know you as I do. As we do. If you want to stay with us that much, then you need to be brave enough to ignore those who don't. It is your choice whether you wish to stay with us or not, and I would love for you too, but it is also your choice to ignore other's opinions."
Gailien's eyes water, feeling like a child needing to be taught how to stand up for herself. Like Fili is the older one, yet he is a fraction of her age but with more wisdom than she can hope for. "I don't know how to." The words are barely a whisper, but Fili hears them all too well. Instead of answering which would do no good as tears begin to streak down her face, he pulls her into a hug instead. Gailien shudders, letting her head burry in his coat as her hands clasp around his back. He slowly soothes her, brushing a hand through her hair and lightly kissing her forehead.
Thorin scans the camp, looking for his sister-son. "Where is your brother?" Kili barely looks to him, his attention on the story being told.
"He's talking with Gailien," he answers. "They're at the pond I think."
Thorin notes that Gailien is indeed missing as well. Wanting to make sure they are alright, Thorin moves around the edge of the camp, walking out past their large rocky cover. He quints through the dark light but they are easy enough to see. They're not exactly talking, is all he can think. With his jaw locked, Thorin returns to the camp, passing by his old spot and chooses to retire to his bedroll instead.