Chapter 7: Her Tale to Tell
It is more horrid than she remembers. As soon as the Elven gate disappeared from their sights, the forest coated them in darkness. The only way to tell that it is still day is by the small rays of light through the canopy of the tallest trees. But Gailien's eyes are not facing the sky, they are facing the ground and her eyes are planted on the stone path that they are following. She only looks up to ensure that the entire company is still behind her.
Once or twice she has had a small panic, not being able to see Bilbo over the other Dwarves, or Bofur who fell behind but they have not made any fatal mistakes yet. Or run into any of the forest's inhabitants.
Gailien isn't sure if it is her Elf sense or if the forest is just stronger than she remembers, but she can physically feel the air seeping in through her orifices, the subtle touch playing at her mind. And it hasn't even yet been a day. But she tries to keep her wits about her, knowing that as soon as she gives into whatever tricks it intends to play on her, they will become reality.
With her partially distracted mind, she shakes her head and brings herself back to the road. The road. Her feet stumble over a grassy land – not one of stone. She spins her body around, wide fearful eyes.
"-ailien!"
They have been calling her name, still standing on the path. Thorin is only one foot off it, stretching a hand out towards her. They still have the path. An audible sigh of relief passes her lips, her hand covering her mouth to pinch her nose.
"I'm sorry. The forest, it's-"
"I know," Thorin cuts her off, still holding his hand out to her. "Come back."
The company is behind them, waiting with impatience. Some of them are talking nonsense, eyes floating around. It seems for every Dwarf that is lucid, there is another that is feeling the effects worse. Gailien silently steps forward, reaching out for Thorin's hand. Her fingers slide through his and he tugs her back onto the stone path. She had taken a right instead of a left.
She follows the path the opposite way, Thorin letting go of her hand once she passes him. Guilt ripples through her veins. She was almost the cause of getting lost. If they had not been focusing… she doesn't dare think what would happen first.
Although her slight mishap is nothing to be happy about, it does provide her with a clearer mind, the fear on the forefront of her thoughts which keeps her sharper than before. Like a rush of energy that blocks pain, her fear blocks the darkness.
"Is everybody still with us?" she asks Dwalin. He checks over his shoulder, counting off in his head. Once he nods, Gailien focuses back onto the road. "We will need to stop soon. It is too much of a risk to try and travel through anything darker than this. Even my eyes are straining to see."
"And my eyes aren't what they used to be a hundred years ago," Thorin adds in agreement. "Let us try and find a small clearing to make camp. Will it be safe to make a fire?" He looks around sceptically as though something might be lurking around them – and something very well might be.
"We're going to want one," she replies. "The light won't travel far in here and anything close enough to see it…well, they won't need a fire to see us."
The company pushes on until they find a small clearing, just wide enough that the Dwarves can huddle around it and not be lying over trees. Thorin begins giving out orders, but there isn't many to give besides to stay in sight and to make a campfire.
Although she has been assured numerous times, she is not content until she has personally seen each and every member of the company for herself.
"I'll go get some firewood," Ori, declares but Gailien quickly shakes her head, striding over the grip his shoulder.
"Let me," she says to both Ori and Thorin. "I'll stay in sight, but it'll be safer if I go."
Thorin hesitates, not wanting any of his company to wander away but if he does not let somebody go – or go himself – then there would not be enough fuel around them to last into the night. "Alright," he agrees. "But I'm going to be watching you the entire time. Don't go far or somewhere where I can't see you."
"Maybe you should have someone go with you," Bilbo suggests but Gailien quickly pushes the idea down.
"No, if something does go wrong than one is better than two. And better me than a Dwarf, or Hobbit." She gives a kind but small smile to Bilbo to assure him that his idea is not being dismissed just because it comes from him.
"You are not lesser than any other person here," Thorin returns sharply with a raspy voice.
Gailien's small smile widens. "I just mean that I have a better chance facing anything I may run into if I do get lost. My senses are still better and if I do run into Elves but an odd chance…" She shrugs to end her statement. "But thank you for that reassurance."
Thorin huffs slightly through his nose. Gailien gives the rest a tight smile before turning away to the forest. Her feet leave the path and she looks over her shoulder. Thorin has not moved from his spot, watching her with an intense gaze as he said he would.
With a clenched jaw and darting eyes, Gailien begins to bend down, picking up any decent sized branch she can find lying around. The forest is quiet, which is not unusual but there is not even the sound of a soft breeze or the flutter of birdwings.
Every few steps, she checks over her shoulder to make sure that she does stay in sight of the camp. Thorin is now joined by Fili who stands behind him, watching her as well. It is a little unnerving to have them both stare at her like she is some kind of predator and they the prey, guarding their herd.
Her arms are nearly full, but she still searches for one larger log that they could use to keep it burning for a while. And she finds it, behind a large tree. 'Don't go far, or anywhere I can't see you.'
Her feet pause, head pointing towards the log but her eyes flicker back over to the two Dwarves watching her. The tree is large enough that she will be out of sight for a few seconds, but the log sits there, calling to her in temptation. Maybe it is the forest trying to lure her away from the path. Is the risk really worth a piece of wood?
Her mind says no, but her feet say yes. Before the two parts of her can argue, she is stepping forward and the company is blocked by the large trunk. She snaps down, picking up the large piece and hastily jumps over the root to be back where she was before.
Thorin has moved forward by a few steps but stops as she meets his gaze. His eyes are blazing – angry. Gailien returns to the camp, holding back her sigh of relief as she strides past the two royal Dwarves. She dumps the wood in the middle of the camp next to Bofur who immediately lights the kindling wood.
"I told you not to go out of my sights," Thorin snaps, glaring accusingly at her.
"I'm sorry," she shrugs. "The wood was too good to pass up."
She knows her own argument is pathetic, but there is truly no plausible excuse for her act of stupidity. Because it was that – stupid. And Thorin wholeheartedly agrees as he leans in close to her.
"Your life is not worth a piece of wood," he hisses. Gailien supposes that she should be flattered that he cares so much but the forest – it does things to the mind.
"Don't pretend to care," she snaps back, glaring at the King. Thorin pulls back, his hard face slowly morphing into an unreadable one. One part of her mind – the foggy, unreachable part is screaming at her to take back what she said – to apologise and blame it on the air but that part is not in control.
"Gailien," Fili says slowly, placing a hand on her arm, "I think you need to sit down." Gailien doesn't move, not hearing his words. Fili looks to his uncle who isn't sure what to do either. She has never expressed a single thought that would even allude to the idea she doesn't think they care. "Come, Bombur is making dinner." He tugs on her arm and Gailien finally snaps out of whatever spell she was under.
For a moment, she believes that the past few moments are just a scenario her mind has made up but by the look on Thorin's face, the words truly did come from her mouth. Feeling ashamed, the bead in her hair hanging heavy, she lets Fili pull her away.
Bombur makes a decent meal, the fire glowing lighter than usual. Or maybe everything is just darker than the natural night. Gailien sits next to Kili as Fili sits on his other side, sparing her the occasional look of concern. Thorin has planted himself on the opposite side, next to Dwalin and Bilbo.
"This place is cursed," Dori spits, looking around. "My head feels like it's being pushed underwater."
"I swear I saw a purple rabbit earlier," Bofur exclaims. "I nearly went after it. Lucky for me, Bifur ran into me and it disappeared."
The others begin telling their own stories. Small things, but things that can easily lead them astray is they don't focus. And it will only get worse from here.
"And to think I last sixty years in this place," Gailien growls. "Of course, I wasn't always in the forest, but I spent most of my time out here."
"I'd rather spend sixty years down with the goblins," Dwalin grunts, crossing his arms tightly. Gailien hums in a partial agreement. For anybody besides the Elves, that may be so but Thranduil's kingdom, inside the gates is beautiful. She looks down at her leg and the sudden realisation comes to her.
"I just realised that I have never told you how I ended up like this," she says loudly, smiling sadly at her leg. "It isn't a very interesting story really, but it made me who I am today."
"It happened here?" Kili asks. "In Mirkwood?"
"It sure did, dilthen er." The Dwarves have stopped their other conversation, giving their attention to her. Even Thorin watches her silently, not letting his gaze drift. "My family…we were different from the beginning. It wasn't usual for a Woodland Elf to marry a human so when my father brought my mother home, it caused quite the gossip. We were apart of Thranduil's court, living in the palace so I grew up hearing things I probably shouldn't have.
"My brother and I were adventurous little things. He was only older by a few years. One day, my mother and father were busy with something so my brother and I snuck out into the forest as we usually did when we could. But we got lost. It wasn't as bad then as it is now, but it still was no longer Greenwood. We found the path again by some stroke of luck after two days of walking. But we were far the palace and we hadn't eaten so we camped out another night. We thought that if we waited that they would find us, but they were used to us running off, so I don't think they worried too much at first.
"We had the idea of climbing the trees to find out way back and being the better climber, I offered to do it. To summarise that, I was not the better climber," she intones, huffing through her nose. Gailien stands, already knowing exactly where she is going. "I fell, from the highest branch, of that tree." She points to the thickest tree, just behind Thorin and Dwalin. The company's head's snap towards the tall tree, their necks bending as they follow the trunk which extends beyond their sights. Her own gaze is pointed downwards as her finger drops down to the object on the ground. "And I landed on that rock."
Their heads drop back down, following her finger. The rock is small, no taller than a few feet but it has a jagged pointed top. One that matches the scar on her back. The company are silent. The rock lies between Thorin and Dwalin and the former begins to feel sick just looking at it.
"I don't know how I survived really. I had a few branches slow my fall down, so I suppose that helped. My entire right leg was shattered, and the rock only missed my spine by a few inches. Mirkwood's healer did what they could but I didn't really have any hope for anything long term. I was young, not even fully grown. My father decided to take me to Elrond, and it was a slow and…painful journey but we made it. Elrond and Rivendell's best healers helped me enough that within the year I was walking again.
"But not without its price of course. My right leg never fully recovered and with the damage to my back – my body couldn't take it and I stopped growing. The height you see me at now is the same height I was at that day. When I returned home, everything just got worse. I would hear them gossiping saying awful things. It was already known that I was a Seer. They would say my brother was jealous and pushed me. The spoke of how strange I was, never growing, half-Elven, a Seer."
"That must have been awful," Kili says quietly, breaking the Dwarves' silence.
"It was," she agrees with a small but mournful smile. It is the past and will forever stay in the past if she can help it. "After my brother died, I left and have never returned until today." She looks around the company, feeling all their eyes on her. "Don't pity me. I've done enough of self-wallowing through the years. I've learnt to live with everything."
Sometimes she wishes she could just lie and say it is because of a battle that she was in or something other than her foot missing its mark, but there are too many holes in the story to fill so the truth is what comes from her lips. Bending down, she places another log on the fire, watching the embers spark. She stays crouching.
Not to her surprise, the Dwarves don't have much to say to her story, besides a few glances of sympathy, a few smiles, and eyes lingering on her leg. She doesn't want her own mind to settle on the topic though. Gailien told them because she feels comfortable enough to know that her story will change nothing about their opinions – except that she may be clumsier than they thought.
Once the Dwarves start speaking amongst themselves again, Gailien sighs, peeking at Thorin from the side of her eye. She should apologise. He deserves one. Slowly, she stands back up, taking the few short steps to Thorin's side. The side opposite the stone – she couldn't bring herself to get any closer.
She sits down cautiously, watching his reaction but Thorin only glances at her for a moment, watching the fire instead. "I'm sorry," she swallows. "For earlier. I didn't mean what I said at all."
Thorin finally turns his head to her. "You know that I care," he says quietly. "I would not have given you this if I do not." He reaches out behind her neck, finding her braid amongst the tied hair.
"I do," she nods. "That's why I'm sorry. I know beads are special to Dwarves and it was insulting for me to even question it." Thorin slowly rubs his thumb over the bead, looking at the rune engraved. She still has yet to know what it is.
"Nobody is in their completely right minds here," he answers. "There is no need to apologise." He still fiddles with the bead, which is a little odd, since she never sees the Dwarves fiddling with their own but perhaps hers is something different. Nevertheless, it is soothing to have him play with her hair. "I'm sorry," he says, taking his hand back. "It is rude of me to not ask permission first."
"Thorin," she laughs, "you made it for me, of course you can touch it."
Thorin nods but doesn't raise his hand again.
Gailien pulls her knee up, locking her arms around it to lay her temple down on top. She closes her eyes, feeling lulled to sleep but knowing that her bed is on the other side, she doesn't dare lie down.
If she is honest with herself, there is only one reason why she would ever return to Mirkwood besides this quest. The person who trained with her, taught her Common Tongue, the person who didn't listen to the rumours or gossip. But if she sees him in the next coming days then that means nothing good has happened.
Also, I was just re-reading reviews and it brought the biggest smile so thank you again!