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Disclaimer: I do not own the Hobbit. This piece of writing is purely of entertainment.
Chapter Two
Telling the time was just about impossible.
Olwen became aware of it shortly after setting foot in the cell, where she would remain for the rest of her days. In the lingering semidarkness among the four walls, hours and minutes blurred together, and she didn't take notice of it until it was too late. She soon couldn't tell what day it was, let alone how many had passed since her surrender – not that she made any efforts to count them.
Night was coming, though. She had no doubts about it. A familiar coldness was seeping into the floor she was lying on, and she began to feel it against her back while it reached through her clothes, sending bitter chills up her spine. It was becoming worse as autumn was nearing its end, yet she wasn't concerned, in spite of the discomfort that had often caused her. The sudden, uncontrollable shivers, the yellowish tinge on the pads of her fingers, the numb toes, it all kept her mind occupied, preventing her from dwelling on things that she should leave alone.
She turned her head, letting her gaze wander to the door, towards Fíli, only to find him gone. To her surprise, he wasn't keeping watch there like he used to. He was a tad further away, instead, on his hands and knees as he was drawing something across the floor with a piece of chalk. How he had obtained the thing was another mystery, which she wasn't planning to investigate yet. She remained on her side of the cell, contented with simply watching him make additional lines on the stone.
Frankly, she was impressed with his resolve. Although it had been a while since his futile lockpicking, he didn't stop searching for another way to escape. She gazed at another, jagged line he had drawn before she pushed herself up with a growing interest, and ambled closer to him. That was when she saw the shapes laid out around his hands, the disbelief rooting her to the spot.
Yavanna's garter. It was a sketch of the dungeon, made entirely from memory. Rough, but full of details, it showed the path from their cell to the bulky door leading outside the dungeon, including everything in between. As Olwen moved forward, Fíli was busy marking every cell door he had seen, every detour, even all the flights of stairs he had gone down. Well, almost all of them.
"That is astonishing." She stood at the edge of the sketch, marvelling at how much he had done so quickly. And then she pointed a finger beside the space he was working on. "But, those steps lead to the left."
The chalk came to a stop. "I believe they go right."
"They go left. I remember that, because I tripped and almost rolled down them before I reached the cell."
Fíli was quiet for a moment, that is until he straightened and turned to her with a mildly mistrustful look.
"Why are you doing this?", he asked.
"Why not? I have nothing better to do while I'm here." She sat on the floor next to him, so that their eyes were at the same height. "I also hoped I'd get a chance to talk. Of course, I enjoy talking to Tancred every now and then, but the lad never says anything in return."
"Someone must've been here before."
"Nah." Her smile was rueful while she added: "You have the honour of being the first."
His eyes widened at the last part, though he said nothing. A small nod was his only answer, yet she caught sight of his reluctance when he chewed on the inside of his cheek.
"It's all right, Fíli. You can ask what's on your mind." He wordlessly furrowed his brow, which made her sigh in impatience and form the question herself. "Why would she resign herself to a life behind bars, alone?"
"Actually, I was thinking of something else", he corrected her, toying with the chalk between his fingers, "Did you ever regret it, choosing to become a prisoner?"
The question left a lump in her throat. It was difficult to push down, but he didn't need to know that.
"Never", she told him, "If I woke up in the past to face that choice again, I would've done the same."
As she spoke, she discovered that he was still on his guard, though he was doing his best to be subtle. Since she had joined him on the floor, his free hand strayed for the third time to his side, his fingers reaching for his tunic and the broken knife outlined underneath the fabric - but that didn't take her aback. He might have been her first cellmate, but he certainly wasn't the first to be wary of her. If anything, it showed her that he was no fool.
However, unlike him, Tancred didn't seem to have a care in the world. Fíli had barely moved from his sketching, and their floppy-eared companion had grown accustomed to him so much that he decided to hop closer. He even gave Fíli's coat a sniff, eyeing the cobweb stuck to the rim, and it was then that a thought hit her.
"What does the forest look like now?", she asked.
"The Mirkwood?" Fíli glanced away from Tancred, whose interest had shifted to his chalk. "Well, it's dark and far too quiet. And it makes you see things."
"So, it hasn't changed much." She cracked a grin, mostly to herself. "When I strayed from the path, I wound up on some clearing, dancing with people who weren't really there. Some of them, I hadn't seen in years."
His expression became softer. Or perhaps she had imagined it in the faint light. Whatever the truth was, his face turned serious a heartbeat later, as one who was pondering carefully about what to say next.
"A part of my family stayed home", he said eventually, "But, I saw them out there, walking out of the bushes."
"That was quite weird, I bet."
"It was." He stalled once a crease formed between his eyebrows. "Still, I was glad to see them. For a time, it seemed as though I'd never left. And then I opened my eyes, just to be ambushed by a spider the size of a cow."
He reached down to scratch his arm, pulling up his sleeve for a second, but Olwen caught a glimpse of where the spider's stinger had struck. The mark on his forearm was puffy even in the dim light of the lanterns.
"Unbelievable. It looks like do have something in common." She rolled up her breeches leg to show her own mark. "A word of warning, though – it'll scar."
"At least we're in one piece." Fíli narrowed his eyes at the mark above her ankle. Though it hadn't healed yet, it was far less swollen than his. "Does it hurt?"
"No. It just itches sometimes." Olwen let go of her breeches and crossed her legs. "You know, for someone almost eaten alive, you look fairly calm."
"So do you."
A guard's footfall from the other side of the dungeon was the only reply he got while the two of them gazed at each other, his feeble smile probably matching hers.
"Thorin is still out there", someone chimed in.
Fíli craned his neck to look behind her, in the direction of the cell beside theirs. Olwen didn't know a thing about its current occupant, except that his name was Kíli, and she couldn't help but wonder if he was also a dwarf.
"Aye", Fíli told him, "How are you faring?"
"I can't complain", Kíli said flatly, "I have an entire cell to myself, a bench to sit on. And my very own bucket." A clank was heard when he knocked his knuckles against a wooden surface. "How about you, miss – Olwen isn't it? I hope my brother's not bothering you too much."
"He's been decent so far." She went quiet, bemused that she hadn't made the connection faster. Fíli seemed more worried about him than the others he shared the dungeon with. And then there were the rhyming names. "But, if that changes, I think I can handle him."
There was a hint of amusement on Fíli's face, to which she shrugged in response. Thankfully, she didn't have to explain what she meant, because Tancred had jumped into her lap and caused her to chuckle. She looked away then, patting down her trousers to find a carrot for him.
"I had no idea you were brothers", she mused aloud, "I'm not stuck here with the funny one, am I?"
"Sadly, no", Kíli replied, while Fíli glowered at both of them. Kíli lapsed into a brief silence after that, only for Olwen to hear a clatter as he suddenly dropped the bucket, and she strained her ears to find out what was happening when he shouted: "He's back! Uncle's back!"
Fíli stood up in an instant. "Where is he?"
"He went past the corner. Two guards are with him."
The fair-haired dwarf leapt to the door. Olwen placed the carrot beside her, luring Tancred off her legs so that she could get up and hurry after the dwarf. Fíli's business wasn't hers, of course, but she wasn't going to miss the opportunity to see the uncle everyone continued to mention, and so she rushed to join Fíli at the bars.
That was when she encountered a problem. The door was too narrow for them to stand side by side, giving her no choice but to stop behind him and peer over his head. Luckily, that wasn't difficult, since she was almost a foot taller than him. Having grasped one of the bars above him for balance, she squinted into the shadows, waiting for the dwarf named Thorin to reappear.
She didn't spot him. Yet, somewhere behind the water that was running through this place, she heard a noise. Keys jingled in the distance, followed by a creak of the hinges as a door was being pulled open, and a muffled clang reached her once it was shut. Fíli and Kíli's uncle must have been escorted to a cell of his own.
"Thorin?", Fíli called out, receiving no answer.
Olwen twisted behind him, holding her cheek against the door. Though she couldn't poke her whole head through it, she managed to stick an ear out between two bars to listen, which turned out helpful. A couple of low voices revealed to her that Thorin was talking to someone, perhaps another member of their odd company.
"I told him he could go ishkh khahfe andu null." The noticeably deep voice had to belong to Thorin. It was brimming with anger, and it was growing louder with every word until he spat: "HIM AND ALL HIS KIN!"
That didn't sound encouraging. Olwen glanced down to ask Fíli what that was, but she gave up on the idea the moment she saw his stooping posture.
"I assume you'll be here for a while."
"You could say that. The Elvenking won't be releasing us in a hurry." Fíli turned away from the door, looking as though he had expected those unwelcome news. Yet, his gaze soon travelled to his drawing on the floor, and his resignation started to taper off. "Olwen?"
Before she could say a word, he looked at her this time, offering her the small piece of chalk.
"What else do you recall about the dungeon?"
.
.
.
Did you ever regret it, choosing to become a prisoner?
The question belonged to the past, yet she kept going back to it in the moments of silence, remembering how much she had trembled before the old forest. Up to that day, she had never needed to dig a hole so deep, whilst her hands struggled with the hardened ground. Since lighting a fire meant unwelcome attention, the only thing she could do was dig. The reminders of it kept her company even now, in the form of calluses on her palms, and she found herself running a thumb over one of them.
She had told Fíli the truth. She had no regrets about confining herself away from the world. However, he had asked her the wrong question – it was what she had done that filled her with remorse and shame. As well as forgetting to bring a shovel with her at the time.
"Are you sure you're all right?"
It suddenly dawned on her that Fíli was there, his brow furrowed in concern while he sat beside her.
"I'm fine. Mostly." She placed her hands behind her back to lean against them. That would stop her from looking there, from drifting back to that day. "You?"
"I'd feel better if I got hold of that key."
Having seen his set face, she nodded in understanding. In spite of the drawing they had finished and checked, the escape plan grinded to a standstill without a key to open the door with. Sad to say, all the keys were held by a guard nobody had seen or heard since Thorin's return.
Clenching what was left of the chalk, Fíli shoved it back into his coat pocket. Olwen wasn't sure for how long he had been awake, but he looked utterly worn out, with shadows forming under his glazed eyes.
"The keykeeper won't be back any time soon", she told him, "Go and get some rest."
"I'll rest when this place is far behind me."
"Well, two carrots say you'll keel over before that."
"Get ready to lose." He tilted his head then, looking at her more closely. "Were you just willing to bet with carrots?"
"I left my coins with the spiders. A lass has to improvise."
His cheek dimpled in a smile, which quickly faded once he glanced towards the bars. The idea of falling asleep didn't strike him as a bright one, she could tell. But, the hours he had spent on his feet must have overcome his urge to stay awake, because he slid a bit down the wall, finding a more comfortable position as his eyes closed halfway.
"Shouldn't you be sleeping, too?", he asked.
"I'll stay at the door for a while. I think I can hear singing from upstairs." She halted once she had caught something else. "And... music. Fíli, can you hear that?"
The dwarf gazed at the ceiling while faint voices drifted into the cell. "It sounds like they're celebrating."
"And you sound like you witnessed such a celebration."
"I did, once. Enough to hope I'd never hear a flute again."
He rested his head against the stone behind him as if he had done it plenty of times. His eyes shut soon after, and Olwen left him to rest, sauntering to the bars.
Barely did she grasp them than the shivers returned.
They were more difficult to suppress, which meant that winter truly was near. She sat where the nearby lantern shed the most light, wrapping her arms around herself while she focused on the sound of a harp in the distance. But, even though the music was beautiful, it didn't do a thing about getting her warm. Having tucked her freezing hands underneath her armpits, she was convinced that the cold had made a permanent residence in her bones.
It was only fortunate that it wouldn't last. A new day would come and banish the night's chill soon enough. All she had to do was keep her patience. And perhaps try to find out what the elves were singing about.
She brought her knees closer to her chest when, quite unexpectedly, something soft was draped over her shoulders. Words abandoned her the second she recognised Fíli's brown coat. She turned around then, the light fur tickling her chin, only to find him next to her again, sitting merely in his tunic and trousers.
"That wasn't very smart", she managed to say after a while, "I could reach your hidden pockets now."
"Go ahead. I emptied them, in case you got tempted."
He gazed outside, listening to the music, yet she didn't, wondering for the first time who Fíli was outside this place. Run-of-the-mill people, or dwarves for that matter, didn't simply end up in the Mirkwood dungeon.
"Thank you", she uttered, huddling under his coat until she considered the idea of trying it on. And it was just as she had expected – the garment hardly covered her back, while the sleeves were pitifully short. However, it was soft and warm, and that was enough. As the newly found warmth brought a smile to her face, she pulled on the hood, looking at him with a chin in her hand.
"How do I look?", she asked.
He didn't get to tell her. A handful of murmurs, rather excited ones as it turned out, rose from the neighbouring cells along with a sound that took her aback. It could only be made by keys, clinking against each other.
"I can't believe you're here!", someone shouted.
"Shhh!", someone else replied while he or she unlocked a door. The first voice muttered a thanks before the stranger moved to get another door opened. And then, with a ring full of keys in one hand, he finally reached their cell, just to see Olwen and stop in his tracks.
Hugging her knees, she stared at him in silence. Fíli was short compared to her, yet the lad at the door was even shorter. But, he couldn't possibly be a dwarf, not with those elf-like ears and bare feet, covered in hair. Come to think of it, she didn't have a clue what he was.
"Bilbo?"
Having peered from behind her, Fíli seemed to pull the lad from whatever daze he was in, because Bilbo flinched, immediately shifting his eyes away from Olwen and focusing on the search for the correct key.
He wasn't alone, however. One by one, more figures began to rush past her door, all of them revealing to be dwarves. A gray-haired one walked by quickly, accompanied by a dwarf with what seemed to be a part of an axe sticking out of his head. The latter stopped to steal a curious look at her when another one appeared, nudging his way beside a concentrated Bilbo.
"You must be miss Olwen", the third dwarf said, intrigued.
It didn't take her long to link the voice with his face.
"And you're Kíli." She was surprised by how much Fíli and he differed. Kíli was taller than his brother, with unruly dark hair and barely a trace of a beard, while Fíli's hair was as light as grain, riddled with plaits. And then there were his moustache, plaited as well.
"It's nice to see whom I've been talking to", Kíli said with a grin. But, then his expression shifted into a confused frown. "Is that Fíli's coat you're wearing?"
She briefly closed her eyes and dropped her head. It had slipped her mind that Fíli was going to need it on the road. As Bilbo stuck a key in the lock, finding it to be the right one, she hurried to take the garment off, until Fíli's hand rested on her shoulder and made her stop.
"It's all right. Keep it." He glanced at Bilbo, who had opened the door at last with a clank of the lock, before turning back to her. "It looks better on you."
He stepped out then, and the brief, carefree moment was over, as she had reminded herself of the reason she was here. While Fíli gave his short friend a pat on the back that almost made Bilbo's knees buckle, she grabbed the bars with both hands, pulling the door closed.
Everyone went silent. A moment passed when the dwarf with the axe muttered something in an odd language, and then Kíli looked at her with wide, bewildered eyes.
"What are you doing?", he started, "We have to – !"
"Go", Olwen cut him off. By that time, the footsteps of the guards echoed from close by. None of the dwarves moved, which led her to turn to Fíli. "Go!"
Thank Yavanna, he didn't hesitate. After looking over his shoulder, where the guards were about to appear, he started to usher the others away from the cell. "Keep moving, all of you. Kíli, Bifur, come on!"
Bilbo and Bifur darted off at once. While Olwen raised a hand in farewell, Kíli stayed behind, protesting as Fíli stood behind him and pushed him out of sight. She could hear them for some afterwards, making their way through the dungeon, their voices growing distant until they were drowned out by the hum of the underground river.
"This was an... interesting day", she muttered to Tancred, who was hiding in a corner, away from the noise. Casting one last look outside, she got back to her feet and shuffled to him. "Let's find something to eat."
.
.
.
Two guards marched past her door, muttering to each other on their way. Olwen failed to find out what they were saying, having caught snippets of a hushed Elvish that she didn't understand one bit. However, their tones gave her an inkling of what had happened outside. The elves could only be this displeased if Fíli, Kíli and the others had succeeded in escaping Mirkwood and, for a few long moments, she was stunned with the thought.
She hadn't honestly expected them to pull it off. The dungeon was guarded well – too well, judging by what had caught her eye – making every escape nothing more than a dream. Yet, if that Bilbo character came up with a way not only to sneak past the guards, but also to obtain the keys to the cells, perhaps breaking out wasn't so impossible after all. It was merely sad that she wouldn't get the chance to ask Fíli about it. How they had done it would have been an incredible story to hear.
"I still don't know how Bilbo passed the front door", she said, exchanging a glance with Tancred, "What say you?"
Having twitched his nose at her, he scuttled off to explore a corner of the cell. Olwen sighed and took a cup beside her, full of water she had barely touched. She tipped it over then, spilling its content on the floor in front of her, hoping to wash away the sketch Fíli had left behind.
Just her luck, that didn't work. A few chalk shapes remained visible, and she grabbed her sleeve to wipe them off when, without a warning, someone appeared right outside the bars. To hide her intentions, she picked up the cloth, pretending to blow her nose into it. But, the guard stayed at the door, as motionless as a tombstone.
He was clearly here for her.
And she couldn't blow her nose forever.
"I already told you, I was asleep", she said, turning towards the figure, "I don't know when they – oh."
Looking up, she discovered that she wasn't talking to an ordinary guard. The captain's red hair was dishevelled, while she appeared winded, as if she had run to the end of the forest and back. Olwen dropped her act, along with her sleeve, and walked closer to the door.
"Tauriel."
"Olwen", she replied quietly, her expression more solemn than Olwen had ever seen, "I'm in need of your help."
The elf-woman held up a large key ring, the same one Bilbo had stolen. In swift, practiced motions, she unlocked the door and wrenched it open while Olwen froze, completely at a loss to what was going on.
"What are you doing?", she asked.
"When we met, you told me you wished to stay in the King's halls. I understood your reasons. I still do. But, something dire happened outside, and I have no choice but to require your assistance... and your skills."
Olwen shook her head. Dread was pooling into the pit of her stomach even before she stepped back.
"You can't ask this of me." Her own voice sounded unfamiliar, seemingly coming from a place far away. "Tauriel, you – you can't. You know what I did!"
"I know."
"Then, don't expect me to walk out of here."
"What if you can atone yourself?" Tauriel didn't give her a moment to answer, although she was ready to do it, her index finger in midair already. "You can remain here, if that is still your wish. I will not think little of you. But, if you come with me, you could save the lives of many."
Olwen didn't move as suspicion crept up on her. "Please, don't tell me that Thranduil agreed on this."
"Let me worry about him", she replied, a pained expression flitting across her face, and Olwen inwardly groaned. The Elvenking had no idea about this, yet that didn't trouble her as another thing that crossed her mind. Should she step out of the cell, she wouldn't be a prisoner any longer – she would become a fugitive.
"There is no time, Olwen. I need an answer."
Only then did Olwen realise that her hands were fisting into the edge of her shirt, so tightly that her fingernails were digging through it into her palms. Saying that she preferred staying here would be a lie. She had never wished to be trapped in this room, spending most of the time staring at a wall. Yet, what she truly wanted wasn't important, not after that day. And the only means to prevent it from happening again was reaching for the bars, there and then, and pulling them shut once more.
However, if she chose to follow Tauriel, she would see the sun again, and it might be just warm enough for her shivers to cease. With each passing second, the thought of it became more tempting. She certainly wouldn't find redemption out there, but a small part of her said that, no matter what she tried, she would at least stop feeling cold. Abandoning the dungeon, including the safety it brought, might be worth trading for a bit of warmth. And in that brief moment of weakness, her feet took her over the doorstep and halted on the other side.
Tauriel looked almost satisfied.
"What did you –" Olwen stifled a gasp when the elf snatched her by the wrist, tugging her away from the cell. "Wait, what about Tancred? I can't leave him here!"
"He will be safe. I made sure of it."
Olwen was about to whirl around, to find him, but she was abruptly pulled down the narrow path between the other cells. Sad to say, Tauriel's grip was firm enough to keep her from scurrying off. The only thing Olwen could do was to follow her, scrambling up a few flights of stairs to a door on the side, set deep into the weathered stone.
"Whatever you see, keep your voice down and we might just leave unnoticed", Tauriel said, having grabbed the right key and pushed it into the lock. "Is that clear?"
Hardly did Olwen nod when she was pushed through the door and into a vast room, with elves rushing to and fro. Clad as members of the guard, some of them had trouble standing on their own, leaning heavily against their kinsmen while they hobbled across the room. Their armour and cloaks were heavily stained with blood, causing her to gulp – a battle had taken place nearby, and recently, according to the fresh stains near her feet.
What did I involve myself in? She didn't get to ask a thing, though, since she got tugged behind a pillar and ushered along the wall furthest from the guards. The few elves left unscathed by the battle were too busy tending to the wounded to notice her and their captain, yet it was a cold comfort. Olwen couldn't stop thinking about the wounds she had seen, inflicted by something much sharper than the fangs of a giant spider.
The sight continued to prey on her mind while Tauriel guided her through another, smaller door, after which they wound up in a grassy clearing, silent underneath the overcast sky. And then Olwen suddenly halted.
She blinked a couple of times, bewildered by the rustling of grass, the way the blades bent under her shoes, and the breeze that began playing with her hair. It was surreal, standing outside the caves after everything. Whilst her gaze wandered, she fought to pull herself together, and she drew in a long, shuddering breath.
She was outside.
She was free.
"It was an Orc attack."
Tauriel's words turned her blood into ice. However, she couldn't stay there. The guards could find her cell empty at any second and she urged herself to move once again, picking up the pace after the elf-woman.
She had heard of Orcs before. The numerous stories she listened to made her glad for not crossing paths with them. She knew they had started to appear more often on the roads, yet she didn't expect a pack of them to reach the Elvenking's Halls, the place she considered safe. Something's happening, and it's far from good.
"You didn't tell me where we're going", she said, running with Tauriel towards the forest. The trees soon surrounded them like old friends, enveloping them in the shadows of their canopies as she did her best not to lose sight of the elf. "And who are we rescuing, exactly?"
"The dwarves", Tauriel said without looking back.
"You're joking." Olwen let out a brittle laugh. "We're after the same dwarves who got away?" She fell silent then, having realised that the elf was serious. "Valar. That's your reason for making me break my vows?"
"If things were less dire, I would not have looked for you." Tauriel slowed down, giving Olwen a chance to keep up. "The Orcs were after the dwarves when my people got in their way. But, those creatures will not stop."
"Well, I hadn't the foggiest", Olwen muttered, and the elf glared at her, "Shouldn't the king deal with them?"
"He has... other priorities", came the hesitant reply, and Olwen guessed that Thranduil had refused to pursue the Orcs. "I will not forgive myself if I let the Orcs go, but I cannot hunt them alone. That is why I need you."
"You mean, to fight first and redeem later. If I live."
Olwen stifled a sigh. Perhaps if she knew that those creatures were involved, she might not be so tempted to abandon her cell. Sad to say, there was no turning back now, and she could only hope they would reach the dwarves first – and that she would get to bask in the sun a little, before meeting a sharp end of an Orc blade.
"Try to keep up", Tauriel continued, "We need to track them down, and see where they are heading."
"I don't think that's necessary", Olwen said, causing her to stop. Tauriel turned around and fixed her gaze on the former prisoner, which was probably a sign for Olwen to continue. "A dwarf – the one I shared my cell with – he mentioned a place his company will pass through."
The elf-woman was quiet, waiting for the rest of her answer. Olwen took the opportunity to run in front of her, and she paused to catch her breath, just to add:
"Have you ever been to Laketown?"
To be continued.
As always, every review will be greatly appreciated!
P. S. When I was rewatching DoS, I noticed that Fíli left his cell in Mirkwood without his coat... my imagination came up with a reason why. ;)