At final count, near on one hundred and fifty soldiers from the dwarven fighting force practically leapt at the chance to get into a good scrap sometime soon.
As was the way of things in the mountain, gossip travelled faster than a boulder rolling downhill, and while there was no way of knowing who slipped the information for sure, by the time we arrived back at Erebor, reached the King's audience chamber, and were granted a meeting, there were already fully armoured soldiers starting to mill about as though we were going to leave right that very minute. I suspected Baz or Darus' handiwork. After all, how could the king refuse if half the mountain was already itching for an opportunity to win some glory on the battlefield?
Dain eagerly gave his blessing, of course, and was only kept from joining us himself by a stern reprimand from his wife.
In the end, it was decided that an escort of four score plus what members of Thorin's Company wished to join would accompany the caravan. That still left several dozen eager volunteers unaccounted for, and so a separate battle group of sixty was dispatched before dawn one day prior to our leaving with orders to head southeast from Dale and then split up into smaller teams, each with the goal of flushing out any enemy combatants.
On our official departure day, the dwarves assembled in the Great Hall to much fanfare and celebration, and even that was a sight to behold, everyone kitted out in full armour, each suit polished and worn with ease. Friends and loved ones milled about laughing, joking, fussing over stray straps and spots missed during cleaning - we all had to look our best after all.
Bofur and I were afforded a little more privacy in finishing our preparations, as I had convinced him to follow me down the back way to my office rather than taking usual routes, and so while we could glimpse and certainly hear the celebratory atmosphere just down the hallway, we were not yet in the thick of it. It was convenient, because aside from a hurried explanation and conversations about what to pack, I had not had any opportunity to talk to Bofur about how he actually felt about the expedition. Overall, he seemed remarkably laid back about the whole thing, and I was altogether unsure what to make of it.
Once I had shut the door, I turned to face him with my eyebrows slightly raised. His own shot up questioningly in response.
"Well?" I blurted out, feeling almost exasperated. "Why aren't you trying to talk me out of this? I thought for sure you'd be trying to lecture me this whole time about how it's not worth the risk and that I should stay behind."
Bofur's moustache quirked up in a half smile as he took a step towards me. "Is that what you want me to do?" he asked in a bemused fashion.
I frowned at him, spinning my wedding ring distractedly. "No. No of course not, but-" I faltered, becoming aware that I was simply trying to pick a fight for no reason and feeling suddenly discomfited by the realization.
Bofur stepped close enough to grab my hands in his. "Of course I don't like the thought of anything that might put you in harm's way. But we've been down this road before, love. I know by now that I can either support you in whatever endeavours you wish to pursue, and in doing so perhaps I can earn your trust enough to join you - maybe even protect you if the need arises. Or I can try and stop you, which seems to only incur your wrath, then you go off without me in a hot-headed rage, with or without my consent."
I bit my lip, feeling a slight heat rise to my cheeks as the truth of Bofur's words caught me off guard. I really had put him in a difficult situation, one where he had no real choice but to simply follow me whether he wanted to or not. "I'm sorry." I said quietly, squeezing his hands.
Bofur grinned and shook his head slightly. "I swear you have this dwarven stubbornness about you… maybe it's one of the reasons we hit it off in the first place." He looked at me thoughtfully for a moment and then added: "Though a dwarf wouldn't apologize and stand there looking all pouty."
I quickly arranged my expression into more of a scowl, but had to bite my cheek to keep from grinning myself. Finally I gave up the act and simply smiled as I closed the distance between us in order to place a soft kiss on lips. "I'm happy you're coming." I then said, letting go of his hands so that I could place my own on his shoulders instead. "And don't worry, if there's any sign of danger, I will gladly let you protect me."
We threaded our way through the crowd towards the main gates where many of our friends were gathering. Dain was having a last minute conversation with Balin and Dwalin, Méra and her mother were trading pleasantries with Baz and Dori. Darus was politely albeit uncomfortably listening to Bifur rant about something, and Nori stood nearby but was busy rummaging in his pack.
Méra excused herself when she noticed our arrival and flounced towards us. Bofur, after politely nodding to the princess, stepped aside to see what Bifur was going on about, narrowly dodging and then restraining the older dwarf's large boar spear as he gesticulated wildly with it.
"That suits you well." Méra complimented, giving me a once over as she came to a halt in front of me.
"I thought it was too drab for your style." I reminded her, but she shook her head and nodded towards the sword hilt protruding from my open cloak.
"Oh the clothes fit you well to be sure. I was talking about that though. You look comfortable enough with it. How does it feel to be wearing it about in public?" she asked enviously.
"I'm not used to it, to be honest." I admitted, and she showed no modesty in drawing back the hem of my cloak before adjusting the sword belt to what she must have thought was a more comfortable, or perhaps just aesthetic position. She went on to make several other adjustments after that. Once she was finally done fussing about me like a mother hen with her chick, she stepped back to admire her handiwork, only to suddenly jump upon hearing a noise that was halfway between a snort and a cough. We both turned to see Darus suddenly standing nearby with arms crossed, one hand rubbing his chin ponderously as he looked me over very critically - although I realized right away that he wasn't looking at me, per say, but rather my outfit.
"Mm..." Darus hummed thoughtfully, and while he failed to elaborate, his critique was clear as could be.
"What?" Méra demanded dangerously, whirling on him with her hands on her hips.
Darus shook his head and tried to act casual, much to the princess's chagrin, all the while ignoring her scathing look completely. He was either painfully oblivious to her scorn, or somehow very, very accustomed to it, since almost everyone else in this mountain seemed to wither before her. Finally, he noticed she was still staring, and then rolled his eyes and shrugged it off over-dramatically. "What's that look for? It's not my fault you left the Iron Hills without taking your only stylistic equal with you, you're clearly slipping without anyone to point out all your mistakes."
"Hello Darus." I greeted, and he smiled at me distractedly by way of returning the courtesy, before returning his full attention towards the princess. I tried to diffuse the situation even though I was not quite sure what was actually going. "I'm not sure if you've noticed, but I'm going to be leaving very soon - so unless you two want to come along, surely my first dozen steps or so will shift everything you do anyways, so it likely won't matter."
Darus looked distasteful at the thought of participating in more travel than absolutely necessary, but Méra seemed almost wistful. "Don't tempt me, I'm on thin ice as it is." She shook the longing from her face and returned her ire to Darus, jabbing his chest with a finger. "Just because I let you have some input into how I designed your wardrobe doesn't mean you can give fashion advice to me. But go on then, let's hear it. What's wrong with it?"
I was saved further scrutiny by Baz, who swooped in from behind his co-worker and shot me an 'I'll handle this' sort of look before grabbing Darus by the arm.
"There you are." he urgently whispered, almost conspiratorially. "The Queen just excused herself and now Nori won't stop going on about how badly his leather breeches chafe. I think he's intent on coming after me to continue the conversation..."
Darus considered Méra and I for one last tense moment before relenting. "Well, doesn't that just sound dreadful." He looked about to make sure Nori was near enough to hear before awkwardly stating in an overly conspicuous way "Baz, thank goodness you're here. Would you be so kind as to help me with some urgent… filing, in the office?" He raised his eyebrows, questioning whether that would be enough, and Baz patted his chest.
"Good lad." he whispered quietly before nodding and responding in a similar manner. "Why yes. I suppose I owe you a favour." He then led Darus away, and as he passed I mouthed a silent 'thank you', glad to be free from the crossfire between Méra and her apparently fashion savvy rival of sorts.
We watched the pair of dwarves as they made their way through the throng.
"Darus and I courted for a wee bit back home." Méra mentioned off hand, an introspection that left me a bit dumbfounded. When I merely stared at her mouth agape, she took pity on me and tried to explain.
"It wasn't serious." she backpedalled, but I shook my head.
"I just didn't get the impression you'd courted anyone for longer than a first introduction. A 'wee bit' seems almost committed compared to that." I pointed out, and she seemed to consider for a moment before relenting.
"Alright, alright, that's fair. It was never serious though - more of a convenience really. His house comes from old money, lots of it, which for a Lord's daughter is quite an acceptable match. Both our parents were desperate to pair us off since we'd shown no interest in other potentials at that point, so a few months of play-acting gave us both a well deserved rest. He's got a great sense of style, and I liked that he didn't care what anyone else thought of him. Reminds me of myself really…" she smiled fondly at past memories, but then continued. "Anyhow, he did a good job of keeping the other boys away."
"No doubt you kept the dams chasing him in check too." I said almost jokingly, as I thought that with his rather unique personality, he might not have had too many suitors actually lining up to court him. Méra looked at me quizzically though, and while I didn't think I had offended her, it left me feeling like I was the one missing out on some obvious joke.
It would have to be a conversation for later though, as the bells tolled out the hour from within the mountain, and final preparations got underway. Méra bade me a quick farewell, checked me over one last time, smirked as though she realized she had been right all along about her adjustments, and then nodded and hurried off to find her mother while I made my way to join the other company members at the front of the hall.
Flags and banners were unfurled, marching orders were established, and then over the organized chaos a massive horn sounded from somewhere up above, and while I knew the shockwave of noise was projected out from the cliff face and into the valley, it still shook the mountain halls such that any dust yet uncleaned since Smaug's demise was rattled loose. King Dain strode out onto the ramparts above the gate amidst the commotion, and when he stopped the source of the noise did as well, though it took some time for the echoes to subside.
"Let's keep this short, shall we?" he began quietly, my ringing ears straining to make out what he was saying, but thankfully he increased in volume as he went on. "You'll forgive me not using the native tongue, but as this is a joint venture we may as well get you all used to talking Westron again after your long vacation here in my kingdom." He trailed along the battlements, taking stock of the columns of troops marshaled before him. "On that note, by my reckoning, you lot have sat on your lazy arses for long enough!" A cheer broke out, and his smirk told me it was the response he had hoped for. He threw up an arm in mock exasperation. "Well go on then! Off with you, my wife won't let me go and claim all the glory for myself, so you sorry lot will have to do it for me! Khayum thane Yanâd Durinul!"
More cheers and shouts of "Khayum thane!" filled the hall for a moment more while Dain revelled. The king then gave a sweeping gesture - iglishmek no doubt, as silence immediately fell over the ranks and then a host of drums struck up a marching beat. The horn blasted forth once more, the gates swung open, and the road ahead down the valley was unveiled before us.
What a sight it must have been to witness from afar that first foray from the mountain since days of yore. With the horn still blasting out through the valley, I set forth in step with the dwarven commanders and my friends, the Company members willing and able to leave Erebor, which besides Bofur and I was limited to Bifur, Dori, Nori and Dwalin. Behind us the rhythmic pounding of metal boots on stone joined the drumming, and together we sallied forth from beneath the massive walls of Erebor. The sun was just cresting the peaks of the mountain's southwestern spur, and having trailed its light down the snow speckled ridge of the valley it was just now illuminating us in its dazzling brilliance, and while it annoyingly forced me to squint, it must have looked absolutely stunning - the sort of stuff straight out of myth and legend, and here I was right at the head of the procession.
We made good time down to Dale, eager and fresh as we were. I felt I had a bit of a spring in my step myself, lighthearted as I was after learning of Bofur's support in the whole ordeal, and the first signs of spring along with the draw of an adventure were so enthralling that even I had no trouble keeping up with the quick pace. It became evident as we closed the distance that we were being watched - in fact the walls and balconies were crowded with folks willing to set aside work and play alike to witness such a spectacle. Much had been said of the skill and precise formations the dwarves had displayed leading up to the Battle of the Five Armies, but so few of those who had actually witnessed their arrival had survived, and those that did no doubt wanted to prove to everyone else that Dain's forces lived up to their reputation
"Your training's done you some good." Bofur observed as we turned onto the ring-road that circled the city on the eastern side, which followed along the opposite banks of the River Running from the walls of Dale. I had yet to show any signs of fatigue, but the march at double time had my heart racing.
"I think it's more all the stairs I have to climb to get to and from our chambers." I commented with a grin, feeling an astonishing relief that Bofur now seemed more at ease about my training than ever before, and was even willing to discuss it openly. I shot him a smile before continuing. "During practice, we're usually in rather close quarters, so we can't do much for pure endurance." I paused and looked back to remind myself of how far we had come, idly noting the formations behind us were unsurprisingly wheeling around the turn with acute perfection, and then looked ahead, off to the south. "There's still a long way to go yet." I added with a small shrug. "I'm sure I'll be seeking a wagon sooner rather than later."
"Don't sell yourself short, love." Bofur countered. "I walked nigh on a thousand miles with you - granted some of that was by horse, and eagle… and barrel." He smiled and lifted his eyebrows thoughtfully, regarding all the bizarre methods of transportation we had used. "Not the point. You're not shambling along like a burnt out tavern maid anymore. You look strong, proud - I can't help but notice, and the clothes do you no courtesy here, but you look more like an elf."
I pulled my cloak, also of elvish make but at least not obviously of Mirkwood, closer around myself to hide my travel garb. Up until now I had been appreciating the tunic and leggings as immensely comfortable and practical compared to human attire, but after Bofur's comment I felt suddenly self-conscious. His round-about praise of my figure had also made me overthink my posture, which in turn made me almost fall out of step with the rest of the troop.
"I didn't shamble." I retorted lamely.
Bofur laughed. "I seem to recall a time when you would have taken a comparison to an elf as the highest form of praise."
The corner of my lip twisted up into a begrudging half smile, but he could tell I was clearly not convinced, so he gestured to the walls.
"Look there. If things didn't happen how they did, all those people could still be in Laketown, eking out an existence in a dying town under the whip of a cruel Master. Now they've reclaimed and revitalized the greatest human city in the north. They have a chance for a better life. Just think about it - without you, the events that led to this day, right here and now, might never have happened. Without you Balin, Fili or even Ori might have died before reaching Erebor, I can't even begin to imagine how that might have impacted the quest, and Bard's children, the whole boatload of us actually, would be toast if you hadn't been along…"
I gave him a look, and he knew I was wondering where he was going with his tirade, so rather than continuing to list my list of accolades he wrapped things up.
"Right, right, how it relates to today - I was getting to that. Gandalf might think you're part of some greater plan; fate, divine influence, whatever you want to call it, but that's too grand a vision for a miner like me. What I see is a human woman who was unhappy with the life she was put in, but she had the courage to change it for the better. Out there on the walls there will be dozens of young lasses who need to see a woman like you being proud of who and what you are, so that when they face difficult choices they know they can be brave as well. They're going to be a big part of your people's future, after all."
"You should have been the diplomat and not me." I muttered, though my smile was growing and becoming more genuine. I straightened myself up and let my cloak fall back open - I was far too warm anyway after walking at such a pace down from the mountain.
"I can't say I'm a big fan of politics." He shrugged.
"But you're so good with people!" I urged. "I'm sure you talked half the company out of abandoning the quest at one point or another, and remember I was there when you stopped Bilbo from leaving... if only to abandon me alone in the mountains all by myself." I flashed him a teasing grin and he rolled his eyes.
"You stand a woman up once and they never forgive you, do they?" he scoffed, and then grinned back at me. A moment later he shrugged. "Nah, truth is I'm only good with people I know and like."
I darted in to give him a quick peck on the cheek. "I'm sure glad you came along on a diplomatic mission then." I said laced with good natured sarcasm.
"I'll behave myself, I promise." he assured me. "Besides, I like to think of this as more of a walking holiday, as our dear friend Bilbo once put it. I imagine it's all the rage for newlyweds in Hobbiton." He adjusted his strap and looked about with a fresh smile. "Yep, just a relaxing little vacation with us and one hundred of our closest friends and family."
I laughed, and together in wedded bliss we forged ahead.
The caravan was waiting for us to the south of the city where the bypass met the road to the city gates. Every cart, wagon and pack animal was loaded down heavily with supplies for both the ailing villages and our own use - though the dwarves each carried a rucksack full of their own provisions and gear as well. As we passed, drivers readied their animals and guardsmen hoisted their own assortment of packs and weapons, and with much less precision than their dwarven counterparts had displayed the human procession lurched into motion. Hall greeted us and then joined us at the front of the column with a few guardsmen, and after returning quick pleasantries I spared a quick glance back to see that after the Company and the first twenty dwarves had passed, the remaining bulk of the dwarves had halted, and were now being interspersed between men and beasts to provide protection along the entire length of the wagon train.
We were on the road no more than an hour before a horse and rider - one of several scouts, as I would come to learn - cantered up from the south, wheeling about to walk his horse alongside Hall while he delivered his report: the route ahead, while wet and muddy in several spots due to the spring melt, was still passable, with no major blockages and no signs of hostile forces. Given current conditions, it was estimated we would reach the first village, Keldun, in three days, and so I tried to settle in and find a rhythm on what I knew would be a very long walk.
It wasn't too difficult to pass the time though. Most of the company members had been busy before, during and after the wedding, and so I was able to catch up with the few that had joined us. The dwarves also sang several marching songs, played games, made bets and had competitions all without missing a step.
Still, through it all I felt a bit off, uneasy, like I had butterflies in my stomach. It stayed with me most of the day, like something just beyond my peripheral vision but always out of sight. Frustratingly, it wasn't until Bofur and I were lying in our tent the first night, he fast asleep, and I agonizing over a great many things, but first and foremost this unexplained feeling, that I finally realized what it could be. The last time I was on the open road had been far from a holiday. From Bree onwards (and even before leaving the tavern, I supposed), I had been mentally taxed to some degree, whether anxious, stressed, terrified, furious, depressed, distraught or anguished (sometimes all at once), not to mention physically exhausted, run down, beaten and broken.
It was, I then reasoned, not something that I was now feeling, but the absence of such feelings that I was vaguely aware of. I made a resolution then, as I laid pressing back into the arms of the one I loved, that I would replace that emptiness with all the positive feelings I was awash with in our first day of travel - hope, purpose, comradeship, security, joy, and peace of mind. And lo and behold, it worked.
I fell asleep dreaming of all the good we were going to do, and how lucky I was to be a part of it all.
We arrived at Keldun ahead of schedule and in good spirits. The estimates of our travel had not taken into account raw dwarven power, which made short work of obstacles that would have taken humans alone hours to resolve. Fully laden wagons bogged down in the muck required several teams of horses to wrest free, which meant stopping the caravan, un-hitching horses, attaching them to the wagon in question, freeing it (which could take the longest amount of time), and re-hitching horses to their own loads before resuming, but with a handful of dwarves always ready to leap into action, many wagons otherwise doomed to such a tedious rescue didn't even lose momentum, and were instead simply heaved through by sheer brute force.
While I would like to say that I immediately volunteered my services in a vital position, such as tending the wounded or offloading much needed supplies, the reality was that we had physicians to stitch and bandage and eighty dwarves to distribute all the heavy goods, and so I found myself without much to do, which was awkward given that I had spent the last week hyping myself up for this very moment. I spent some time speaking to the village elders and members of each individual household with Hall, taking notes of what might be needed and what could be done to make their lives easier in the future, but after that first day when the healers turned from life threatening injuries to more mundane scratches, bruises and coughs, and the dwarves began helping with repairs and preparing for planting, I had nothing to keep me busy - until Bifur approached me mid-morning on the second day with his travel pack.
From within, he tried to draw out a wooden box which must have taken up the entire space inside, as it was giving him quite a struggle to extract without splitting the bag down the seams. He grumbled and turned it this way and that, his khuzdul growing more and more aggressive as he worked in vain to free whatever was inside. After several unsuccessful attempts, he finally paused and glanced up at me with a somewhat cagey demeanour.
"Can I help you with that…? I ventured unsurely, and he nodded.
"That would be kind." He nodded several times, and I made my way over to help hold the bag open while he pulled. Clearly it was not something he wanted to simply upend, as otherwise he might have just held the bag aloft and shook it out. Inch after inch we carefully wriggled the box free, until finally it sat uncovered on a wooden bench. I lowered the bag and looked at him curiously.
"They wouldn't let me bring these on the wagons - needed all the room for 'essentials' like food and tools." He rolled his eyes and then gestured, and with no clue what I might find I tentatively opened the box. Inside were rows and rows of meticulously packed toys nestled down amidst a fur lining, each one fitted to the next perfectly to keep them from rattling about. No one toy was alike, the collection ranging from animals to dolls to toy soldiers and many more designs that I could only guess at. Materials were primarily metal and wood, but there was also bone, leather, straw, feathers, and a hodgepodge of other bits and pieces incorporated as well, and each and every one had some sort of mechanical component built into it. I ran my hands across several in wonderment, and then leaned down closer to study the intricate paint jobs and details that each was adorned with.
"My fingers aren't quite back to their old form, I'm afraid. Most of these are practice y'see, not something I could sell." he grumbled somewhat sheepishly, picking up a metal bird to examine it critically, but when I turned to him with a broad, excited grin on my face he raised his bushy eyebrows and then flashed me a sly smirk, the mischievous twinkle in his eye he shared in kinship with Bofur, and I knew that he knew these were beautiful pieces.
"I'd say these are just as essential as the rest." I rose and looked back to the box of treasures. "Shall we go see if the townsfolk agree?"
We spent the afternoon surrounded in a crowd which grew in size as the hours went on, first made up of only young children, then joined by the older youth who were at first too grown-up to be playing with toys, and then curious parents, grandparents, and anyone who had a spare minute as they passed by the front steps of the village's main longhouse, which was inevitably everyone at some point.
The toys, in their variety and intricacy, held something for everyone, and Bifur distributed them freely and indiscriminate of age. While they were beautiful in and of themselves, the real crowd pleaser was the mechanics within, from simple gear-work to move an animal's head or swing a soldier's sword when a spindle was turned, to complex wind up spring contraptions that would make noise, race about, jump several paces, or even fly.
And with that simple gesture of kindness from an aging dwarf, magic returned to the town that night. With the essential buildings and tools repaired, the sick and wounded tended, and the larders stocked, a festive atmosphere spread through the village and our camp. Making use of what little we had, we feasted to the best our limited rations would allow, and passed the night in song and dance and celebration.
It was shortly after leaving Keldun that we deviated from the planned route. Barely half a day south of the village we came across a young girl, naught but skin and bones and barely clinging to a horse just as near to death as its rider. The physicians from Dale tended her as best they could, but what she needed most was food and many days of rest.
We learned from her that her small hamlet several miles inland was in need of aid. While the villages and towns along the River Running were a priority, many of which were low on food and in dire need of useful supplies, for the remote settlement of Windrest that the girl hailed from, the food had completely run out. After long rationing to get them through the winter, eventually the adults had abstained from food altogether, starving themselves so their children would eat, and now the girl, oldest of her siblings, had been given much of the few remaining handfuls of food that morning when she set off to get help from anyone she could find. The guilt of taking from what little food her community had left had broken her spirit, and we gained no more information from her that night. We coaxed her into drinking a few sips of broth, and then allowed her to fall into a fitful sleep.
Hall called a gathering that night consisting of all those with a stake in the expedition. The company members, our local guides, leaders of both the dwarven and human military escorts, and the caravan masters all weighed in on the situation, and somewhat shockingly we came to a decision in less than an hour.
"So." Hall outlined once the final adjustments to the plan had been made. "It's decided then? The bulk of our forces will continue on south." he indicated the two original villages on the map. "A dozen human guards will protect the heavy wagons and most of the supplies, aided by what dwarves you feel appropriate to ensure they safely reach Freeman's Ford and Carnen to complete our original task." A quick glance was cast towards Dwalin, who was leaning up against one of the wagons with his arms crossed over his chest.
"Fifty dwarves will accompany the wagon caravan." he grumbled, straightening up and making his way over to the map.
"Then you lot and the remaining thirty will join myself and the rest of the men." Hall concluded. "By dawn our scouts will have found where the track splits from the main road. Once there, we load up the smaller carts with as much food and supplies as we can and head inland to Windrest with all haste. We provide what help we can, and then once we have a better idea of what we are dealing with, we return to Dale to arrange for whatever further assistance might be needed there."
No one complained or raised a question. In truth, it seemed as though there was some anticipation in the air as the group split off to give their orders and make arrangements for the morning. Until now, there had been no real urgency, but now the holiday was over.
It was time to get to work.
Long after the meeting, deep into the night, I slipped as silently as I could through the tents and wagons and sleeping mats. The pale moonlight lit my way, shining like mithril on the knoll where the camp horses had been put out to graze on what little early vegetation was sprouting up amongst the barren landscape.
There were sentries nearby, but their attention was utterly focused outward as we were deep into uncharted territory with possible enemies abroad, so my passage was uninhibited as I made my way through camp to where the girl's horse was tethered. He had been tended to by the camp farriers, but being in such poor condition he had not yet been introduced to the rest of the herd for fear of bullying. He shied as I approached, lifted and set his hooves nervously, but otherwise a faint snort was all he ventured, and after a long slow approach he finally allowed me near.
I ran my hand along his neck, petting him tenderly and whispering kindnesses to him. The wind picked up, raising goosebumps on my skin and up my arms, but I did not stray. Despite his weakness, he was warm to the touch, and so I leaned into him, and I like to think that in his fatigue he leaned into me.
I lost track of how long I lingered there, my thoughts far away, and when I finally woke from my reverie it was to the soft sound of a voice.
"The young lass reminds me of someone." Bofur mused from nearby. I had not heard him approach, and if the horse had, he was not concerned with the dwarf. "Am I right in thinking I'm not the only one?"
I gazed deep into the horse's eyes, as though willing the animal through some primal connection to bring to my mind the memory of another girl and another horse, riding hard to freedom.
"She's so young..." I commented, empathy for the girl heavy on my voice.
"So were you when you started this unexpected journey." Bofur pointed out.
I turned to point out the difference - there was at least ten years between her and I, but he stopped me.
"You forget, all humans are young to us." He smiled softly, dispelling the usual cacophony of mixed feelings I usually felt when that topic came up. "You have grown since we first met, not much in age, but in experience. You've seen and done things that even most dwarves may not witness in their lifetimes... and tomorrow, we help another girl, and a whole village whose children will get a chance to grow up, all because she risked everything and rode off with only a prayer and a sliver of hope for a better life."
I smiled back at him, perhaps there were some similarities in our stories.
"Come now love, let's to bed. I'll have someone come check on our friend here at first light, and I'm sure Bombur will be more than happy to save all sorts of treats for the poor beastie."
I acquiesced, accepting the hand that he offered to me while petting the horse one last time. Sleep beckoned - fatigue was finally settling in, and one thing was certain: there were long days ahead.
We left before sunrise the next day, and I found myself regretting the late-night visit to my equine friend as the long hours drew on. We took only a few short breaks on the march, and I found that by late afternoon my attention was starting to drift such that I would pass a landmark, but then when next I registered my surroundings we were somewhere completely different. It happened a few times, as though my mind was having a hard time keeping up with my body, and it ended when finally I found myself face to face with Bofur. He had guided me out from in front of the column of dwarves, and was pressing a flask into my hand.
"Can't have you falling asleep on the job now, can we?" he stated, and I couldn't help but wonder if I had been mid-conversation with him already, though of course I could remember nothing of it if so.
"Sorry?" I ventured, shaking my head to rouse myself further.
"Blimey, I haven't seen you this out of it since Mirkwood. Drink up, according to the scouts we're nearly there."
I opened the vessel and drank, and immediately the bitterness of the cold tea within caused me to cringe. I knew with it would come the alertness I needed though, and so I took another drink. "I think I finally understand why you let me make all the tea." I ventured through a grimace, though the return of my sense of humor was already signaling to him that I was feeling better. He let me keep the rest to sip on, and then beckoned for me to rejoin the group, which I did with much more gusto than I had had all day.
The sun sank low in the sky ahead of us as we drew near to the girl's home. Our first inkling of the settlement was the fields of crops, many of them clearly ravaged and left unworked at some time during the harvest season, others dark with ash that had lingered on them through the long winter and gave us insight into why the people suffered so badly. I remembered back to farmhands in Bree speaking about controlled burns to help revitalize the soil, but it was surely never done before harvest when the crops were necessary to that winter's survival.
"It's a small blessing the orcs didn't find and kill them all." Hall observed bleakly, though with eagles and packs of dwarves giving chase after the Battle of the Five Armies, it was not surprising they didn't linger long enough to fully root out any small settlements on their flight south.
"They didn't need to." We were startled by the small but hard voice in our midst, looking back to find the girl, whose name was Kura, moving her way through the ranks towards the head of the column. She was supposed to have been resting in a cart, but was clearly ignoring doctors orders despite her condition. "We were as good as dead the moment they stole what food they could carry, and destroyed what they couldn't. Killing us would have been a kindness."
She ignored our looks of concern and carried on ahead of our front ranks, no doubt eager to return to her home. I realized that despite her age, she carried herself as if she had a great weight and responsibility placed on her shoulders, and it was clear she was determined not to crumble under the pressure of it. She pushed on, and everyone gave her space. I imagined many of the dwarves saw her stoicism as admirable, to be forging ahead alone to face whatever came. Yet I knew the loneliness and frailty that could be lurking just underneath a hardened demeanour, and so I sped up to fall into step beside her, hoping to show her that she was not alone, not if she didn't want to be. I said nothing but when she looked at me she gave me the ghost of a small, grateful smile at one corner of her lips, even though she was otherwise fighting back tears.
"We're nearly there." she said more gently than her earlier words, then blinked hard and nodded beyond the rise ahead, and side by side we marched into the ruined hamlet of Windrest with the sun sinking low in the sky before us.
As we descended into the small depression that harboured Windrest, it became alarmingly clear to me that it was being very generous to call it a settlement at this point. Any out-buildings we passed were either destroyed in the fires, or looked to have been scavenged leaving only the foundation posts and hard packed dirt floors behind. As we approached the few remaining structures, I noticed that many of them had received similar treatment, having been stripped of any wood that was easily removed.
"Firewood." Kura explained as she followed my gaze. "It was safer than sending bairns to the woods when our parents got too weak."
I nodded, and was grateful when she did not elaborate, as I wasn't really sure I wanted to find out if they had learned that the hard way or not.
"Kura's back!" A boy called from one of the second floor windows of the only habitable building in town, and the only one with a cobblestone foundation. I saw the awkward shuffle of a hunting bow being jostled around, and wondered if they even had any real weapons to speak of. A thundering of feet on wood steps rang out, and from the building several children rushed out, followed much more slowly by a few of the adults. The children were keen to greet what I assumed was now their impromptu leader, and they were even more curious about me and my elven-styled outfit. Their curiosity lingered just long enough for one of them to notice the sword, which had several of them gawking, before another finally noticed the rest of our companions approaching out of the twilight and shouted: "Dwarves! Dwarves have come to save us!"
The village adults and the front lines of the rescue caravan reached us at the exact same time, and a flurry of action began as almost every resident of Windrest was accompanied by a dwarf or human to have rations dealt out and immediate problems addressed. The reality of being rescued buoyed the elders and parents of the hamlet who, despite their feeble conditions, were stepping up to take charge once more, and I could see the tension that Kura had been carrying was abating slightly. She seemed somewhat at a loss, suddenly adrift and unneeded after untold days, weeks, perhaps even months of being the primary caregiver for her people, and so I touched her elbow to get her attention amongst the hustle and bustle and asked for the small favour of some hot water when she had the time, as I knew the cookfires in our camp would surely be overcrowded for the foreseeable future. She promised she would seek me out when she could, and so I thanked her and made my way to set up my tent, leaving her fretting about with trivial tasks and no doubt feeling much the same as I had back in Keldun.
If my guess was correct, I knew it wouldn't take her long to seek me out with the hope of being useful in any way possible. Sure enough, before even an hour had passed, I saw her dodging this way and that between dwarves with a kettle held carefully in one hand. I called out to her and she spotted me, making her way over where I relieved her of her burden and set it down on a bare patch of ground.
"Thank you!" I smiled gratefully, and then traded her for an unbound pouch before she could leave. "Would you hold this for a moment?" I asked after the fact, already busy extracting a pair of clay mugs from their protective location between layers of clothing within my bag. I could tell she was already enthralled by the aromatic blend of tea within the pouch. I beckoned for her to crouch down alongside me, took a large pinch from the bag for each cup and then added the hot water. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply as cinnamon and ginger drifted up amidst the rising steam, tantalizing and exotic, the perfect thing to shake a chill on a cold spring day. While it steeped Kura handed me back the pouch and attempted to excuse herself once again, thinking her task complete. I could tell it was almost physically paining her to do so though - a drink like this was a luxury from warmer lands far far away, something she might never experience in her entire life, and it held a similar sort of power to it as Bifur's toys did.
As she was about to find out, that was exactly why I had invited her to help, to experience the magic of a luxury I had come to take for granted.
"Kura," I called out to her as she rose and turned away. I held up one of the cups to her as she glanced back. "This one's for you."
As exhausted as we both were (her doubtless even more so than I), we stayed up late that night sharing the abridged events that led us both to this point. We both had a busy year, as it turned out, and she seemed as keen as I was to relate to someone who had been through trauma, even as different as it was to my own experiences. I told her of my escape from Bree, meeting the dwarves and the many harrowing dangers and challenges we had faced thereafter, only leaving out the most intimate details of my relationship with Bofur, who I introduced when he came by to bring me some food (being the gentleman that he was, and knowing how few human girls I had the opportunity to ever talk to, he offered Kura his portion before heading off to wait in line for more). I told her of my mother's death, and the burning of my childhood home, of watching the bodies wash up on shore the following day before rushing off to the mountain without a chance to grieve, and finally my own account of the Battle of the Five Armies, hopeless and terrible until the very end.
She in turn told me of a late spring and a low crop yield the year prior, which led to being struck from a deal to sell pooled produce with other farmers in Freeman's Ford, and a shortage of supplies to plant with the next year. She told of the birth of another younger sibling, her families' first boy and her first brother, which led to her taking on all her mother's tasks in late spring, of a failed attempt to bring early vegetables to markets in Laketown and finally detailed the attack by passing orcs which came at the worst possible time, and the fallout that ensued. Her father had grown ill having taken in too much smoke fighting the fires that the orcs left in their wake, and her newborn brother caught a chill and passed shortly after the firewood ran out and her father had, in his pride, refused to ask for help getting more - the irony of too much fire and not enough was not lost on her and she laughed bitterly. By the time her father passed the other families were no better off, rationing off the last of next year's seed, burning furniture and now empty granaries, livestock shelters and fences to save the trip to get firewood, and eventually weakening to the state that they were all in now, sharing the few remaining structures with all the other survivors and waiting to die.
We sat in silence for a long moment after telling our tales, and while emotion had run raw in the retelling, she and I were both remarkably at peace after the cathartic sharing of our woes.
"It helps…" she took a sip of her fourth cup of tea before continuing. "To have said it all out loud..."
"Especially when it can be ended with 'and then things got better'." I agreed. I hadn't told her about my lesser troubles adjusting to high dwarven society in Erebor. I knew carrying on to describe that chapter of my life would not at all be relatable to someone from such a place as Windrest, and I worried that complaining about such a blessed existence would make me seem entitled and petty.
"It doesn't get better overnight, though, does it." she ventured slowly, more of a fact than a question, and I wondered if she had gleaned some truth of the matter from my expression. I smiled wistfully into my own cup, considering my answer while taking a drink.
"Not all of it." I shook my head. "Some relief comes immediately, and some you have to work harder for. We can only keep trying to move forward, despite knowing that some things from the past can never be the same again - and at times it might even feel worse than before, but it's the only way we can make things better for ourselves and those around us."
She nodded introspectively, and I knew she understood. She could have given up so many times in the past year, but here she was, the saviour of her community, because she had dug in her heels and kept going. After what seemed like a long silence, she yawned, and I couldn't help but yawn as well.
"I envy them…" I mused, watching the dwarves as they worked tirelessly around the village even this late into the night. I held the tea pot up to offer her a refill, but she shook her head.
"So do I, but we can't let them think we're helpless girls after all we've lived through." she replied with a cheeky grin. "But that's about all I'll be if I don't get some sleep. Let's get to bed so we can be of some use tomorrow."
At daybreak the next morning work halted temporarily for the somber task of laying the dead to rest. While typically the community's deceased were buried in individual graves in the small graveyard at the base of a hillock out past the far fields, it had been decided that a communal mound be dug into the hill itself, as was tradition for great warriors and kings of myth and legend. Overnight the dwarves had made short work of this task, using natural stone found during excavation to shore up the walls so that the tomb would forever remain to remind everyone forevermore of the great loss that had been suffered by the hamlet, and of the resilience and will to live that saved those who had endured.
At final count, eleven were buried in the tomb, and after a few words and a haunting melody was sung by one of Kura's aunts (whose husband and one daughter were among the dead), the mound was sealed. The mixed expressions on the faces of those who knew them best made me wonder if many of those who died early on hadn't already been mourned at the time of their passing, while for those that died later it seemed as though their families hadn't had the strength to mourn them at all until now - these were the ones who suffered the most at this last goodbye, and they were comforted for the remainder of the day by the rest of the community while the dwarves resumed their work.
That evening a celebration of life was held, and the townsfolk elected to dip into what rations they now had to send off their dead in style. I helped Dori, Nori, Hall and the dwarven camp cooks prepare and pass out food, giving the mourners time to be with their family and friends, and saw little of Kura, as she was sticking close to her aunt and cousins following the funeral. Hall proved himself surprisingly useful around a cookfire, and won Nori some money off his brother when I chose Hall's seasoned stew over Dori's in a blind taste test. As a further treat, Bofur came to visit me mid-afternoon while I was taking a break to bring the hamlet's only surviving animal, the horse, a treat. The visit was nice, as he hadn't returned to the tent last night and I had traded only quick hellos with him for the last two days, so he spent time catching me up on all the various projects the dwarves were getting up to and I filled in for him some of the events leading up to the dire situation we arrived to.
Kura and I worked together on the third day, and we made a good show of it despite whatever fatigue we might both be feeling. I admired her efforts, knowing full well she was still a long way from recovering her strength and full health after being in such an impoverished state for so long. In fact, I felt downright foolish for feeling tired at all compared to her, and tried hard to hide my exhaustion, but the mad dash to get to Windrest and the following days of work had truthfully taken a lot out of me. As such, we worked at much the same pace, and found use in small tasks such as organizing food now safely stored in the larders, stockpiling kindling, distributing food to help free up dwarves for jobs requiring heavy lifting, and wrangling the children, several of whom were members of Kura's immediate and extended family. Bifur joined us late in the day to distribute more toys, and so we spent the evening playing with the youngsters before tucking them into bed.
Before the day's end, a meeting was held where it was decided that our relief caravan had provided any and all help that it could. Besides treating wounds and nursing the malnourished, teams were sent to a nearby copse of trees for firewood and materials to shore up what buildings remained. Any damaged tools the residents had were repaired or replaced, paths and buildings were cleared of debris, and by the time all this was done there was still enough time to erect a rough palisade between the more solid remaining structures. Many hands made for short work, and the strength of the dwarves and their ability to work through the night meant that we were quickly running out of ways to be useful, even taking into consideration Dwalin and a rotating troop of twelve dwarves had been absent for much of the stay as they scouted the countryside for any signs of the new threat that had attacked the villages along the river.
As an added complication, it was pointed out that staying any longer without resupply would begin to eke into the very food we had intended for the villagers' long term survival, assuming we wished to eat on the return journey of course, and so it was decided that it was, in fact, time to be on our way.
Half of the remaining guards from Dale volunteered to stay behind and continue in the defence of Windrest, at least until the unknown threat to villages near to the River Running was dealt with. No doubt their assistance would also be welcomed in menial tasks that needed doing while the strength was still slowly returning to the locals, but the men didn't seem to mind and were in good spirits as they saw us off with those who were fit enough to bid us farewell.
Kura made her way through the ranks as we were forming up, personally clasping the hand or shoulder of each and every one of us, over fifty in total, thanking us profusely. Even with the responsibility lifted from her, she was still acting like a leader, and I was proud of her for it. She smiled more shyly as she approached me, and I couldn't help but marvel in how strong she looked compared to the ghost of a girl that had begged our aid only days ago.
"I've seen you spending some time with our horse when you're not working." she led with, nodding over to the recently repaired corral where the gelding was continuing his recovery, standing in companionship just across the fence from one of our cart drivers' own horses. "He likes you." she added.
"You seem to be one of his favourites too, for him to have worked so hard for you." I praised with a smile of my own. "Between the two of us, I'd say he has pretty good taste, wouldn't you?"
She laughed, sweet and pure, and yet clearly an unfamiliar sound from her own lips. I could tell it caught her off guard after all the hardships she faced, and it ended all too soon, but there was life in her eyes again - I could see it.
"My sisters made this for me before I left…" she held out her hand, and I accepted what turned out to be a beautifully woven bracelet that I could only guess was made of horsehair judging by one of the colours similar to that of the gelding's tail. "We wondered if you might want to have it?"
I nodded, struck silent by the simple kindness of the gesture as she reached out again, helping to put it on one of my wrists when I didn't resist.
"Thank you." I said softly as my fingers trailed across the neat little braids. A funny part of my mind grew jealous that I could not even braid my own hair half as well.
"We used to bring them to the markets in Laketown when our father travelled there with crops," she explained, smiling inwardly. "He let us keep the coin we made, or spend it on treats…" the way she spoke so longingly of the memory made me suspect it hadn't been a reality for a very long time, especially not the past few years as crops failed to produce and every last penny would have needed to be put towards survival.
"I look forward to seeing such fine products in Dale." Hall praised from where he had been snooping nearby. The moment passed for Kura, and she and I parted ways with a hug before I noticed Hall was not going to drop the subject. I mouthed 'sorry' and she shrugged, before stepping past me to thank Hall for all his help. I left them to find Bofur, while Hall told her of how popular such bracelets might be amongst the upper class in Gondor, especially if made from their favourite animals, and wondering if they could be made from other animals or just horses, and would she ever be interested in moving to Minas Tirith, and so on and so forth. She was only saved by Dwalin, who saw her plight and crossed the formation to take Hall by the elbow.
"It's time to go lad." The burly dwarf grumbled, and Hall seemed ready to object until the veins on Dwalin's hand bulged. Hall then quickly acquiesced, muttering his farewells to Kura and rubbing his arm where Dwalin had gripped it. Shortly thereafter horns blew, drums sounded, and we were formed up and underway.
The hamlet had but one road leading to it, and the original track we took was most certainly not it. We had chosen the shortest route inland, and while it no doubt saved time (and possibly lives), the rough ground, steep elevation and rushed pace at overfull capacity had not been kind on our animals or our carts. To limit any further strain on them, on the return voyage we took this more scenic and well trodden 'road' (it was still a stretch to call it that, but it was an improvement in any case) which gently wound its way southwest to meet the River Road roughly a day's journey from where we left it in the first place. From the crossroads, one could either travel east to Freeman's Ford, or west to Keldun along the road, which would take us through a series of chasms carved by the river right through the steep terrain that had given us such trouble getting to Windrest.
We finished saying our goodbyes and set out shortly after dawn on the fourth day, our ninth day since leaving Erebor. We travelled at a relaxed pace this time, knowing that, at worst, we could likely pick up an extra day's rations in Keldun with the promise of another supply caravan coming through in the near future to assist not only them but also the other villages and hamlets in the region. The road down to the river was so much more picturesque than the ascent four days earlier, and so we enjoyed ourselves, taking heart in the knowledge that we had left the world a bit better than we found it.
We camped at the crossroads that night, where we met up with a trio of riders sent from the main caravan updating us of their arrival in Freeman's Ford. They stayed overnight, in the safety of numbers, before riding out the next morning with news of our success and we travelled in the opposite direction towards the narrowing valley ahead.
By mid-morning we were deep into the gorge, and I realized with some surprise that this part of the River Running was familiar to me. It almost felt as though the memories were from someone else's life, and yet they rose from some murky depths of my own mind.
The vague recollections were of more peaceful times, when my father and I would run the swift waters, and then on the return journey walk the narrow roads built on either side of the river between tall cliffs and steep banks, while teams of oxen hauled the boats up. So soon after the conflicts in the region, however, no one had returned to provide such a service.
"How have shipments been getting to the Long Lake?" I asked Hall, certain that the merchant prince would be privy to such things.
"Up the river just like always." he answered simply, but when I stared at him nonplussed he seemed to realize for the first time where we were, and by association what I was actually asking.
"Oh, the barge men get out and pull."
I imagined how difficult it must be to accomplish such a feat, and wondered if people like Thranduil saw the extra labour reflected in the price of his wine.
Ahead of us, the long, drawn out column of carts, men and dwarves shambled to a halt. As more of us filed in from behind, the close quarters of the small road became all too apparent, and it was with great difficulty that Hall and I made our way to the cause of the stop.
"The slide looks fresh!" Bofur's old mining colleague Harrick was calling as both he and Bofur descended from the top of a large mound of damp earth and boulders that completely blocked the path forward. "Mungo, Grungo, take a few lads and check the cliff further back, will yah? The ground's still soaked from the thaw, make sure we won't have the whole lot of it coming loose on our heads."
Hall wandered up to where the rockslide met the river and idly kicked at a rock with the intent of sending it into the water. It was larger than he thought, just the tip protruding from the muck, and so the swinging foot met stone and stopped dead. His face contorted with pain but he didn't make a sound and everyone else near enough to see was watching the dwarves descend, so as a kindness I didn't draw attention to it.
"How long do you think it will take to clear?" I asked Bofur once they were finally down.
"Shouldn't be more than a few hours if we get all hands to it. The only thing limiting us is the size of the road… more of a path really, hardly more than a track..." The few company members in his midst rolled their eyes or scoffed, which halted his further rambling and made me wonder what I had missed.
"Anyhow, let's get digging, shall we?" He grinned, hefted his mattock, and with the help of mostly dwarves he set to the task of moving dirt as happy as I had ever seen him. While they worked, the rest of us set to keeping them well fed, and as the minutes stretched on, those not on the digging rotation simply relaxed, doing what any wise traveler would do when they had the chance for a well deserved rest.
The sun had already passed its zenith, and shadows were climbing the cliffside behind us as it carried on its westward journey, when one of the diggers shielded his eyes and called out "Barges approaching!"
The two crafts came slowly into view, lurching their way down the swift water in a way that seemed unnatural.
"They aren't ours." Hall mentioned quietly to those nearest to us. To me this was surprising, as while It was not unheard of for folk in these parts to travel on the water, these barges seemed awfully large to belong to a simple village fisherman, and we had not seen any sign of them during our stay in Keldun.
"Easterlings." Dwalin grumbled from somewhere behind me.
"We don't know that." Hall cautioned, though we all knew full well that Dwalin could very well be right. A cold, irrational fear trickled down my back - was this the same sight my father had seen the day his barge went down with all hands lost? Were these the men responsible?
Finally the barges drew near enough to see their design clearly. They sat wide in the water, with high gunwales. Their strange movement was due to anchor cables, tied off somewhere upstream, being let out by their crews. For a moment I began to doubt my earlier fears. Perhaps they were simple traders, who had found a way to ferry themselves up and down the narrow channel without leaving their craft.
My earlier fears, however, proved right.
"Archers!" A dwarf suddenly shouted from near the top of the rockslide before he took an arrow to the shoulder, sending him tumbling down the slope. The rest of the diggers scrambled for lower elevation.
"Shields!" One of the dwarven commanders yelled over the din. "Shields Up!"
Thick dwarven iron rose to meet wooden shafts tipped with bone and stone, though at first it was by no means the impenetrable defence of a dwarven shield wall. Shields and bits of armour had been strewn all along the length of the chasm, long ago discarded to make the task of clearing the road easier, and many dwarves were wounded in the process of diving for whatever bits of gear lay close at hand.
I scrambled behind a cart half loaded with stones and hunched myself into as small a target as possible, watching through the slats of the wheel with wide eyed apprehension as the caravan members struggled to find shelter behind what little they could - boulders, rock piles, carts, other dwarves. My nearby companions had mixed reactions, with Hall joining me by the wagon, and Dwalin heaving a nearby axe with such force towards the closest barge that it lodged deep, if not harmlessly, into the gunnel. He was then tackled unceremoniously to the water's edge by Bifur just as the second volley pelted those behind them.
The initial maelstrom of arrows slowed and degenerated from its organized and timed out barrages as the dwarves closed ranks and targets of opportunity dwindled behind an ever strengthening wall of metal. The sounds of panic diminished, replaced by the pitter patter of helter-shelter shots, which soon decreased further to what sounded like the first few heavy drops of rain before a storm.
I could hear the rapids again, and even my own breathing began to slow from its first initial adrenaline-fuelled gasps. I chanced a glance over the wagon, and was relieved to see that Dwalin and Bifur were now within the relative protection their comrades afforded them.
The dwarven soldiers, silent since the first initial orders, were communicating with iglishmek behind the shield wall, a technique which I guessed was to unnerve their opponents. A few human and dwarven archers, and several javelin throwers, dashed quietly behind the front line to arm themselves and get into advantageous positions. It was during this brief respite that Bofur jogged in a half crouch down the path towards us from further up the column, mattock held lightly in one hand. He settled in a crouch alongside us, just beyond the safety the wagon afforded, and spared me a quick but thorough glance that I knew was gauging if I was alright. I nodded, which thankfully seemed to be all the convincing he needed.
A lightly armoured dwarf somewhere along the line fell with an arrow in his neck, prompting a break in silence as those ahead of him struggled to see how the arrow had gotten through their defences. Two humans then fell, the first wounded by an arrow as well, the second to a heavy rock, and both came from above. This was followed by a hailstorm of debris and the odd arrow, which forced those of us behind the dwarven front line to press up against the cliff face to protect ourselves as best we could. That is to say, it forced most of us to do so.
Dwalin and Bifur made their way to the wall of stone unhurriedly, and I was shocked to see just how much the pair seemed to be relishing in the action. In fact, many of the dwarves seemed spoiling for a fight, in stark contrast to my people who seemed to be reacting much more appropriately to the situation.
"Right then!" Dwalin shouted, turning to press his back against the slab just as a large boulder impacted with a massive thud a short distance ahead of him. "By all accounts, they're on our left, they're on our right, they're ahead of us, behind us, and even above us." His voice dropped to a dangerously low timbre then, his accent thickening with the bloodlust that was rising within him. "That means they can't get away." he growled, and then turned around and looked up at the enemies far above us.
Without another backward glance he began to climb, and a few nearby dwarves took his lead and discarded their ranged weapons in order to join him, though this made them all woefully exposed to the archers on the barges. Down the line I saw Dori and Nori making their way up the cliff side as well, though their progress was slowed by projectiles from both above and behind.
"We need to draw their fire." Hall observed as one of the dwarves was picked off, and those on the ground were subject to constant threat of injury. He suddenly rushed back to the cart we had sheltered behind originally, ducking behind it when another focused barrage from the barge fired past him and rattled around and above us. With new targets, the enemy was attacking again in earnest. As soon as it was past, he rose and hauled himself up onto the wagon to get a better vantage point, staying only until forced back down by another salvo. He studied the battle at ground level once more, then seemed to come to some conclusion as he suddenly called over two of the nearest guardsmen, and after a hurried conversation the three men stripped off their outer layers and dashed off up the defensive line.
I had little time to puzzle over his leaving, however, as the arrows and stones from all sides were growing more persistent.
After that, several events seemed to happen in quick succession.
A lucky dwarf managed to embed a heavy broad tipped spear deep into the hull of one of the barges, and with the rope fastened to it a handful of dwarves and humans were now hauling the barge across the current in an arc that would bring it directly into the waiting axes of the dwarves on the shoreline. Behind that first barge, the anchor line of the second suddenly severed, having been under such tension holding the boat against the current that it broke with a snap audible even over the noise of combat. The vessel and its occupants went careening down the river, and shots from both it and its sister ship went wild then ceased altogether in the quickly changing circumstances.
A man clad in light leather armour dropped from somewhere up above, landing with a sickening squelch-snap onto the yolk of one of the carts. I screamed, flinched, and covered my head with my arms. It was the first of several that I heard clattering and bouncing down the cliff side, indicating that Dwalin and his crew had reached their mark. I kept my head cradled in my arms, wanting to wait until the bodies stopped falling, but I was roused by Bofur placing a hand on my shoulder. I looked up to see Harrick, Mungo and Grungo had broken off from the shield wall and were rushing to the aid of a few of the cart drivers who were now desperately fleeing from around the bend downriver where they had been depositing rubble. The pair of guards that had been with them were nowhere to be seen, but based on the condition of the drivers they had stalled this new threat as long as they could and prevented us from being caught completely off guard when our own battle started. I tried to leap into action, but was stopped by Bofur's hand holding me fast. He released me when I whirled back at him angrily, ready to insist that we help, to plead my case, but I was taken aback to see him offering my sheathed sword out to me from where I had left it some time earlier.
"Go." he stated with conviction. "I'll be right here with you."
The other dwarves had already engaged, and with his words buoying me I took my weapon, unsheathed it and moved to assist. The path was narrow enough that enemies were forced to channel between the three shield bearers if they wished to make any further headway, and so by taking up positions behind them we were able to protect their flanks while they focused on holding back the brunt of the attack. At first, one after another, bold men rushed through the gap, only to be held back by my sword and Bofur's deft hammerwork. I blocked, parried, and with thrusts and slashes managed to kill the first and disarm a second in the time it took Bofur to bludgeon one after another into the river. I couldn't help but notice how sloppily these warriors fought, as I watched a third try to force his way between Harrick and the cliff only to be bashed so hard by the shield that when he bounced against the soft earth he left an impression when he slumped down dead. If they had any training at all, it was poor at best.
Roughly a dozen enemies remained, and with their most foolhardy now among the dead they poked and prodded our defensive line half-heartedly until behind us dwarven battle cries rang out, signalling the remaining barge had been boarded and was quickly being overrun by our companions. The mob facing us turned to flee then, only to be met by the waiting axes of Dwalin and his crew, who having finished their work up above must have descended the cliff somewhere around the bend. There was a moment's pause as the opposing forces sized each other up, and in the lull I turned and numbly walked away. I knew what was about to happen.
I knew Dwalin to be loyal and honest.
I knew him to be devoted, compassionate, and caring.
I also knew that he was not merciful to his enemies, and that under his command, the dwarves in their bloodlust would give no quarter. Against an untrained, poorly equipped opponent, there was about to be a slaughter, not a fight.
Bofur guided me away, and shortly thereafter the battle was won.
"The bodies of the guards have been found further downriver." Bofur informed me as Dori and I worked on passing out hot tea for anyone able enough to take comfort in it, which, as it turned out, was quite a few people after all. We had come out remarkably unscathed for being ambushed from three sides, and apart from the dwarf that had been shot in the neck, and the other that fell climbing the cliff, most of the other injuries were superficial even amongst my own people, many of whom were now aiding in the final clearing of the landslide. With so few losses, confirming the death of the guards was a major blow.
"And Hall…?" I ventured as nonchalantly as I could muster for Bofur's sake, though my worry over the fact that he had not yet returned caused my hand to tremble and tea to slosh out, burning my fingers. I swore and dropped the cup, drying my hand off on my tunic while I tried to regain my composure.
"I don't bloody believe it." Bofur remarked suddenly in disbelief, and so I finally spared a glance at him. He nodded behind me down the path. "That boy has some timing, I'll give him that."
I spun around to see Hall and one of the two guardsmen he had taken with him were supporting each other, hobbling towards us through carts, men and dwarves. They were soaked, shivering to the point of turning blue after being in such icy cold water, and each sporting a few nasty looking cuts besides, but both seemed in decent spirits despite the absence of the third man. Five dead, then. They were nearly waylaid by one of the healers as they approached, but Hall sacrificed his companion off to be tended and came up to us instead.
"I hope that w-w-wasn't the last of the t-t-tea…" he chattered, nodding to the cup that was still on the ground where I had dropped it. Without thinking I flung my arms around him in a tight hug only to feel how cold and wet he truly was, so I quickly drew away before he even had a chance to react otherwise. As I stepped back, I noticed his quizzical expression, which made me feel oddly self-conscious about my display of happiness for his safe return, and so I mumbled that I would get him some tea and then guided him to the cooking fire to warm up, trying to ignore the frown I now saw etched across Bofur's face as I did so.
That evening I retired early to the tent, finding myself fading after the false energy from the battle-induced adrenaline wore away. I pulled off my boots and set them outside, then removed much of my outerwear to leave in a heap at my feet before crawling up and reclining on my bedroll. Even though it paled in comparison to the bed I was now accustomed to in Erebor, I was still grateful to stretch out and rest each evening in relative privacy and comfort - at least compared to the last time I was travelling.
Bofur, surprisingly, followed suit not too long after. I had expected him to stay up late recounting details of the fight with his dwarven companions, as Dwalin had already broken into a cask of spirits that had somehow managed to be labelled as an essential commodity - even though we had all been explicitly instructed to pack very lightly in order to save as much space and weight on the caravan as possible for the important survival provisions.
"You won't be joining the festivities?" I asked, propping myself up on an elbow to regard him as he balanced his mattock down on its head and perched his hat on the end of the handle.
"I drink because I like the taste, not just for the effects." He began to undress as he spoke, and I watched him in the faint light from campfires that bathed the exterior of the tent canvas and filtered through into the interior. "You probably caught a whiff when they opened it, the whole camp did I'd wager - what that lot is drinking out there is close to twenty times stronger than an old whiskey. It's good for when you're short on space and only a small cask will do. It's meant to be watered down mind you, but you can bet even though we're right next to the river, those lads won't be tasting a drop of water in their liquor tonight."
I smiled and turned to face him as he lay down beside me. "Well, as much as they might miss your company out there, it will be appreciated right here just as much… perhaps even more." I added with a grin as I scooted closer to him to tuck myself more against his chest. He pulled a blanket up over both of us then his lips came up to rest on my forehead while a heavy arm draped over my waist. We stayed silent for a few moments, and I let my eyes drift close, idly listening to the growing raucous outside. I began to worry that if they kept it up I wouldn't even be able to fall asleep despite how exhausted I felt - though I then reasoned that if I got desperate I could always just send Bofur back out with orders for everyone to go to bed. After a particularly loud bout of laughter, I wondered if any of the humans were out there partying with the dwarves as well. If so, I hoped they would have enough sense to stay out of the drink, or else we might be having a very late start tomorrow. While thinking of the human men, my contemplations naturally started to focus on Hall, and at that I felt a small anxiety blossom in my chest. I couldn't quite identify the exact source of my unease, but I had a suspicion, and so I wanted to try and resolve it if I could.
I shuffled back so that I could peer at Bofur's face. He opened his eyes to regard me and I had to muster a small amount of courage before I plainly asked: "Why don't you like Hall?"
He didn't immediately answer, and I wondered if he was caught off guard by the question. After another moment he sat up, running his hand along his chin. I sat up as well and studied him, eventually he looked at me, his eyebrows slightly furrowed.
"Why do you think I don't like him?" he replied evenly, his voice giving away no hint of emotion.
I had to fight not to roll my eyes. "Bofur, it's obvious, you're just… well, you're not very nice to him. I know sometimes he isn't all that tactful, but he is my friend, and I'll probably have to work with him more going forward. I just don't understand why it bothers you so much."
He frowned and shook his head, then gave me an almost patronizing look. "You can't be that naive."
I bristled slightly. "So it is jealously then?" I snapped as I realized what he was implying. I narrowed my eyes at him, half in anger and half in confusion. "I don't understand! I've spent plenty of time with plenty of other men - what about Bard? Is it just humans? What about Darus and Baz? I'm to be spending a lot more time with them, most of it alone, but you don't seem at odds with them like you are with Hall... Is it because they're dwarves?"
Bofur let out a short laugh, which was still more than I thought the question warranted, but then he seemed to realize I wasn't in on my own joke. "Hang on, you don't know…?" I stared at him dumbfounded, and he raised his eyebrows thoughtfully. "Well, you'll find out for yourself soon enough no doubt. I suppose that sort of thing is a bit frowned upon in some human communities…"
My mind connected the dots from his comment back through all the encounters I had with my new co-workers, critically examining each one, until finally I clued in.
"Oh." I stated lamely, but then more and more of their behaviour around each other made sense. "Ooohh, so..." I cast a questioning look at him now, and he nodded.
"You won't have to worry about misinterpreting any attention from those lads. They've got eyes only for each other… well, maps and missives, as well as each other. Damned good at their work from what I hear."
"Maybe I'll have to be careful of them around you then." I teased, trying to keep the mood lighter now that the tension was broken. "After all, your tastes have already expanded to human women, who's to say what other dalliances you might consider?"
I barely managed to stifle a shriek when he suddenly pushed my back down and was atop me quicker than my tired body could react to. He leaned in, placing a kiss along my jawline while one of his hands travelled up under my shirt.
"Don't worry," he assured in a low voice, "that's not really my cup of tea." he added, then gave my breast a slight squeeze for emphasis. I grinned but pushed my hands against his chest, and once he was off of me I forced him to lay down instead.
He looked up at me, a slight twinkle in his eye, as I straddled him. We hadn't quite worked through the problem at hand, but now I was the one in the position of power. I shifted my hips, slowly and intentionally. It already felt like we'd been on the road for ages, with little privacy and a travel fatigue that caused me to fall asleep almost instantly after laying down at night. So, even though I was certainly a bit unkept (in fact I felt downright grimy), I knew I now had his full attention.
"I don't want you to worry about Hall." I said quietly. He tensed, but I bent forward and captured his lips before he could say anything. Just when I felt him relax I broke off and sat up. "Promise me you'll try to get along?"
Bofur rolled his eyes and dropped his head back onto his bedroll dramatically. "Alright alright!" he bemoaned. "So long as he stays friendly I'll mind my manners, dwarf's honour." He placed his hand onto his heart for added effect, but then narrowed an eye at me. "But if he ever starts looking for more…" he threatened in jest, but I cut him off with a finger to his lips.
"Don't worry." I assured him, leaning down over him and hovering my lips just on the far side of my finger. "You're the only one for me."
I kissed him then, and spent the remainder of our waking hours showing him just how true that was.