Hello all you lovely people! I hope you had fun over the holidays. Thank you so much for being patient as I took a small break from writing to enjoy Christmas and New Year's. In return, you get this monstrosity. I really didn't mean to make it so long, I swear, but here we are. Haha I'll try not to overdo it with chapter length next time, but there was just a lot of stuff that had to happen in here. lol
To Megan VR: I know, right? I love that trope of them reacting to modern things so much lol. And hopefully Thorin and Jenna's interactions will continue to entertain you as well. Thank you for reviewing! ;)
To LoveMeSomeFili: (haha I love me some Fili too!) Thank you. I do try to portray Thorin as smart, and sometimes I wonder if I'm overdoing it, but I'm glad you like the way I write him. I don't like it when he's portrayed as dense either! lol thank you again. :)
And a big fat thank you to all of you who reviewed. You guys really motivate me.
Anyway, you've waited long enough!
The Loudest Silence
Chapter Sixteen
And it rained.
And it rained.
And it may have rained a little more, but I might be wrong, since I couldn't see past all the rain.
The upside was that, for the first time, I actually got to use the cloak I bought in Bree with my wager winnings. Surprisingly effective for its simplicity, the thick covering worked better than any umbrella would have in this situation, and I was glad Balin had suggested it when we shopped. The downside was the fact that I started my lady times at the same time as the rain. I was thankful my periods were short, but honestly I could have done without that additional fun in the first place. The few feminine supplies I had from my own world were definitely not going to last very long, so again, I found myself thanking Balin for his assistance in Bree.
The rain came hard and fast, waking us quite rudely before time was due. It didn't even feel like morning yet with how murky the skies were on that first day of the downpour. Everyone was in a slightly foul mood after that, when we travelled onward and the weather showed no sign of letting up. Lunch was dried meat and some tough bread, and while it was filling, we wound up having to eat it again for dinner because there was not enough dry kindling to create anything other than a small fire for light.
We had stumbled upon a large overhang that evening, just the right size for everyone to squeeze under if we didn't care about personal space too much. The ponies – being ponies – were fine with standing outside the bounds of our makeshift roof, though ironically, Stormy seemed the least happy about the weather. I mentally made a promise to love on her more before we parted in a few days.
The entire Company was soggy and grumpy about the cramped shelter, but glad to be out of the rain. I was thankful I'd been growing more comfortable with them, because we literally couldn't turn around without bumping elbows with someone. While I cared about them deeply, we all smelled a little bit like wet dog, and I don't think I could have handled the odor and the awkward proximity as well.
Our sad campfire made a matchstick look like a blazing inferno. Gloin attempted to keep it going with some dead twigs he'd found in the overhang we occupied, if only to allow us to see something as night fell.
"You don't think this can keep up for much longer, do you?" Ori asked no one in particular, inspecting his satchel to make sure his journal was still dry.
"Hasn't shown any sign of letting up, so I wouldn't count on it, lad," responded Dwalin from his seat at the edge of the overhang's cover.
Bilbo and I were at the very back of the half-cave, I assumed because we were the weakest of the group. I didn't blame them, honestly. I wouldn't want me or him to be the first line of defense if something cornered us either.
Next to us, Ori seemed satisfied that his journal was unharmed and opened it to begin his entry for the evening, clicking the pen I gave him. He exuded a small sigh, saying, "That's what I was afraid of."
"Oh, a little rain can't do us any harm," Bofur spoke up. "Unless it floods and we drown in our sleep. That could do it."
Bilbo's head popped up as he watched the miner for a second, trying to figure out if this was just another pull at his leg. Eventually, he asked, "That... That's not likely to happen, though, I assume?"
"Why, happens all the time," said Bofur, leaning against the mossy wall. "Poor, unsuspecting travelers caught up in a wee bit of rain… Then all of a sudden it's not a wee bit anymore, and they're washed all the way past the White Mountains."
The Hobbit's face was a similar color as the aforementioned mountains.
Rolling my eyes, I felt around for a tiny pebble and chunked it at Bofur's arm. It bounced off harmlessly, causing him to snicker, and Bilbo realized that he had been played, yet again.
"Your idea of humor is very concerning, Master Bofur," said Bilbo morosely.
Bofur found himself chuckling again with his reply of, "Just Bofur is plenty – if we're gonna be stuck on the road together for so long, may as well drop the formality. And my humor is nothin' to be concerned about. The way I see it, if you always expect the worst outcome, then any outcome that's not that outcome is the better outcome because you've already thought of the worst."
There was a long moment where Bilbo and I just stared at him, trying to decipher what the hell he just said. It made sense… in a twisted, roundabout, very Bofur sort of way.
"Ah… well, then," Bilbo said. He kind of grasped around for his next words, settling on the lifeline of a less confusing topic involved. "I suppose just Bilbo is plenty for me as well, thank you."
I took hold of the opportunity, flagging down Bofur's attention while it was still directed our way. This formality was a little stiff for my taste.
He raised one brow and asked, "What's that ye need, Miss Hollander?"
I just basically poised a hand out at that statement with my palm up, tilting my chin down, and waited. For added measure, I signed, 'Jenna. Please.'
"Are you sure? Always been taught to treat a lass with the utmost respect, but if that's what ye want…" Bofur said, mustache curving up with his smile as he quirked his head towards me. "Alrighty then, Jenna."
Grinning, I nodded happily.
"Does that mean us as well?" Kili asked, leaning over from his spot by the fire to listen in. He looked genuinely hopeful, brown eyes practically sparkling, but I couldn't pass up the chance to mess with him and Fili, who sat next to him.
I forced a massive frown, sticking out my bottom lip and shaking my head slowly.
Thankfully, Kili picked up on the fact that I was simply playing, and laughed, "Of course. We wouldn't dare go against your wishes… Jenna."
My playful scowl disappeared and I smirked at his cheekiness.
Balin had chosen a seat close by the fire as well, so that we could continue my Iglishmêk lessons that rainy evening. While I was getting better, I was by no means completely fluent, only able to sign the simplest of phrases. The main concern was giving me a way to communicate, but Balin thought it was a good idea for me to also brush up on reading others as they signed back. Something about fortifying my lessons by usage – I don't know, but I was awful at it. My skill in reading the Iglishmêk was even worse than signing it, as I had to reverse what I knew about making the gestures.
We had been practicing simple conversations back and forth, and so far, I was doing alright. 'How are you?', 'Good. You?', 'I am good, thank you. How is the weather?', 'It rain.', 'It's raining.', 'Yes. It rain.' – Okay, I still sounded like a tier one caveman, but I was proud of myself.
After a good while of this mundane-as-hell conversing, Balin straightened up a bit. "Alright now, let's try with someone else. Not everyone is going to move their hands in the same way, you see, just as not everyone has the same inflection while speaking," he told me while glancing around at who was closest. "Ah, laddies – here for a moment, if you would."
Fili and Kili paused in their conversation, standing to maneuver closer to us and plop down on either side of me.
"Aye? How may we be of assistance?" Fili asked as he glanced between me and Balin.
Balin answered, "I simply believe it would benefit Miss…"
He trailed off upon noticing the tiny frown and the shake of my head. Already having heard the interaction with Bofur a little while ago, he knew exactly what I was disapproving of.
"…Miss Jenna… if we gave her a smidge of extra practice," he resumed, a wry smile playing on his lips. Though he still felt the need for the 'Miss', I supposed that was close enough. Balin turned back to the boys then, saying, "If you don't mind, that is."
"We would be glad to help, wouldn't we, brother?" Fili assured us in a strange tone, meeting Kili's gaze with a look that was borderline condemning. Just what it was about though, I had no clue.
On my other side, I turned to see Kili looking quite uncomfortable all of the sudden as he stared straight past me to his sibling. "Yes, absolutely. What… what did you need us to do?" he asked with an odd pause, dragging his eyes away from Fili.
Balin had caught all this, probably even easier than I did, but only spared a curious look before he said, "Well, I need you two to speak with the lass for a moment using the Iglishmêk. It'll be good practice, for both involved."
Kili was tense, but nodded.
Fili, on the other hand, eyeballed his brother as if expecting his nose to spontaneously combust, then scooted forward. He said, "Alright, well I'll go first then." This was followed by a conversation nearly as boring as the one I had with Balin, the subject simply being food instead. When we were through talking about what we had for dinner (and correcting me when I signed 'meat' as 'meap'), we then turned to Kili expectantly.
Honestly, he looked as though we were about to shoot his puppy or something.
"Your turn, Kili," addressed Balin.
Kili's mouth opened and then closed again, then opened once more as he ducked his head and muttered something. Even with how close I was sitting to him, I couldn't really distinguish the words over the sound of the rain, so it was no wonder nobody else could.
"What's that, lad?" Balin asked as he leaned forward a bit, straining to listen.
The words were mumbled again. This time, though, I could make out some of it, becoming very confused at what I thought he was saying. Did he really not…?
Fili was the one who prompted him, inquiring with a knowing look, "What was that, Kee?"
"I said 'I don't know the Iglishmêk,' alright? Are you happy? Is that what you wanted to hear?" Kili finally blurted, glaring at his brother. "I didn't believe I would ever need it and I was wrong, so no need to tell me what I already know."
Fili wasn't glaring back. He looked calm, but also a little worried, like he didn't mean for Kili to basically announce it to the whole world.
I was… surprised. Though, like Fili, I grew concerned when I realized how quiet the small alcove had become. How often did this sort of thing happen? I mean, certainly there were a few Dwarves here and there who didn't know their sign language? There were tons of people back home who didn't know ours despite its usefulness, that was for sure.
Kili seemed to notice the lack of noise a few seconds after us, glancing around the Company, trepidation growing on his face. There were a few that had their eyebrows raised at the sudden change in atmosphere, though there were a few mutterings and head shakes. Balin seemed only mildly surprised, probably having figured out the cause of Kili's nervousness beforehand.
Of course, Balin wasn't who the young prince was worried about.
From across our cluster of a Company, the attention of Thorin had been gained and let me tell you, he did not look happy in the slightest. I could feel the archer beside me shrink down a bit.
"Kili," called Thorin sharply. There was a near tangible drop in temperature as the King gave a tilt of his head that I recognized a little too well.
Obviously, Kili stood with all the enthusiasm of a kid getting sent to the principal's office, but he stood nonetheless and picked his way through our cramped camp to the edge of the overhang. Thorin was standing in the traditional disapproving stance – arms crossed, chin tilted down, and his whole body radiating agitation – waiting until his nephew finally came to a sluggish stop in front of him.
Part of me wanted to watch out of curiosity. To strain my ears to listen over the downpour, to see how bad it was that Kili didn't know the Iglishmek, but then the other part of me wanted to allow them privacy. I was sure Kili would prefer not to be admonished in front of everyone, had they but the seclusion necessary for such talks. As it was, they were speaking too low for me to hear, but Kili's demeanor switched between defensive and reprimanded. I turned away after a while, realizing that I was watching even when I had literally just been considering their lack of privacy.
Fili took note of my concerned look, shifting his eyes away from the pair as well. "It will all be fine," he told me quietly. "Thorin may be slightly harsh at times, but I know he has our best interest at heart. Kili's been asking me to keep that Iglishmêk secret for too long now."
"Why would the lad not bother to learn it, is my question," Balin spoke up softly, a bit surprised by the turn of events. "Did you or did you two not have lessons more than a decade ago?"
Fili nodded with an exasperated sigh. "Aye, we did. That was also the time of the Archery Tournament though, if you remember. I suppose you can figure that one out easy enough."
"Of course," Balin breathed, straightening up as he realized exactly what happened.
I frowned slightly, also piecing that together quite quickly.
"I'm willing to bet the lad was more interested in target practice than anything else at the time?" surmised Balin with a sullen look.
"That is a bet you would win," Fili said as he watched his brother take the last vestiges of a scolding. "There are only so many times one can cover for their sibling and call it a 'stomach ache'. I had to get creative after a while. To this day, Master Lírn still thinks Kili has a clubbed foot."
I scrunched my lips together, trying not to laugh at that. Not a clue who that was, but the mental image of a younger Fili making up stories to keep his brother out of trouble was kind of adorable. It was also bizarre to think of this as having happened ten years ago, since I would have barely been in the double digits myself. Dwarf aging… I'll never get over that one.
"How on Earth did you two manage to keep that one from Thorin all this time?" Balin asked with disapproval.
Fili just shook his head, giving a partial shrug and became mildly sheepish. "It just never came up. Well, until now, of course…" he trailed off, glancing at me.
My brows came together with worry as the guilt crept up my spine. True, Kili shouldn't have skimped out on his Iglishmêk lessons, but at the same time, I couldn't help but feel responsible at him getting in trouble.
Seeming to sense this, Fili leaned over to me and put a hand on my shoulder, banishing my worry with a quick, "This isn't your fault in the slightest, Jenna. He's had this coming for a while. If anybody is to blame, it's me for letting it go on so long and for helping him get away with it in the first place."
I relaxed slightly at knowing he didn't see me as the cause of Kili's problem. However, I had to make sure Kili saw it that way too.
Judging by the way the youngest prince lumbered back to us, plopping down beside his brother without even a glance in my direction, I wasn't so sure that he did.
Fili wore a small frown, having predicted this behavior before any of us. "Well…?" he asked.
"Well?" Kili echoed. "Would you rather hear of the copious amounts of disappointment first or of the pony cleaning duty for a week?"
There was a long silence, Fili damn near rolling his eyes as he shook his head, Balin in a state of bland dissatisfaction, and myself slouching down from the irritated aura rolling off of Kili. I took a quick peek back to where Thorin was left standing, curious as to what kind of state he was in. To my surprise, he looked more tired than angry as he watched his nephew return and settle into tense conversation with us.
"Neither, actually," Fili answered, calm again. "I don't know why you thought you could keep that a secret forever."
"Well it was working, was it not?" Kili grumbled as he still refused to look at me.
Both Balin and Fili shared a blank expression before the elder Dwarf said, "No, lad. Not really."
I shifted in my spot, stretching my boot out to barely tap the toe of Kili's. It got his attention long enough for me to impulsively apologize, mouthing, 'Sorry.'
Balin and Fili were tense, ready to jump down Kili's throat if he said the wrong thing at this interval. Eventually realizing this, Kili let his shoulders drop with a sigh and his scowl melted away as he finally met my eyes.
"Don't apologize," he said reluctantly. "I brought this upon myself. Delaying the inevitable, honestly. I'm the one who should be sorry. Had I learned the Iglishmêk, I would be able to help you learn as well, and eventually speak to you properly."
I didn't like seeing Kili so down, even if it was his own fault, but it seemed like he learned his lesson. He was genuinely sorry that he couldn't lend a hand – pun fully intended.
I thought about it for a second before reaching over to grab my backpack and sifting through it to find the cheat sheets Ori had made me. After many nights of pouring over these things while everyone dozed, I had them practically memorized, and with how much effort Ori put into them, I knew their usefulness shouldn't end with me.
Shuffling the few pages back into a neat little stack, I offered them out to Kili. He blinked at them for a moment before recognizing the sheets for what they were. Gingerly, he took the offered little pile of papers and flicked through them, becoming confused.
"Do you… Don't you need these, Jenna?" he questioned.
'Not a lot. Kili learn more… Need more,' I signed, trying to find the right wording. 'Fix problem. Learn now.'
"She says you're an idiot," Fili casually translated. I didn't bother correcting him, my lips drawing together in a straight line, giving my head a little wiggle that meant 'more or less'.
Kili narrowed his eyes at his brother, but seemed to be in better spirits when he turned back to me. Sitting up a little straighter, he said, "Thank you. I'll try to catch up. Maybe by the time we pass the Misty Mountains I won't have need for an interpreter." This was accompanied by another sour look at Fili.
"Brother, we will already be well settled into Erebor by the time you catch up," Fili snickered.
I struggled to contain a smirk at their banter. Though they joked, I knew it wouldn't take Kili nearly as long as it took me. He already knew Khuzdul, and skipping that had been my main roadblock.
'We can help him?' I asked Balin. 'I learn good now. Teach him too?'
Balin actually seemed hesitant for some reason. He then explained his unease, saying, "I don't know if that's a good idea, lass. You've still a lot to go and teaching another would likely slow us down… I assume Thorin still has quite a few questions you cannot answer just yet?"
The sudden drop of my happy demeanor told him all he needed to know. Fili and Kili were watching us intently, the latter having figured out the subject easy enough, even without the Iglishmêk.
"That's what I thought," Balin continued. "Though I would have no qualms with it myself, I doubt that Thorin would be too keen on postponing information about the… ah, lass?"
I was already standing. It would be impractical not to just get Kili's teaching over with at the same time as mine. There was half a mumble from Balin as I left the vicinity of our circle and carefully maneuvered around the others to the edge of the alcove, less hesitant about approaching the Dwarf King than I had been when we started out.
Thorin's attention had never fully left our group after his discussion with Kili, so he was aware of my approach well beforehand, standing with his arms still crossed. The rain was right in my ear when I stopped in front of him, heavy droplets the size of marbles plopping down not a foot away as he waited silently for me to state my piece.
'Kili can learn with me,' I finally said, motions coming out surprisingly deliberate.
Despite my firmness in this statement, Thorin looked troubled at the suggestion. "He will learn the Iglishmêk at a later time. We cannot afford to delay information concerning the map, and Balin teaching a second would do just that."
I scrunched up my nose at this. I knew Thorin would get the information on time, but he didn't, causing a worry that wasn't necessary. Finally good enough at the Iglishmêk to breach the subject, I replied, 'You will learn map in time. Lots of time left.'
Thorin gradually uncrossed his arms in order to sign back, 'How do you know?'
Er… Maybe my eagerness to help Kili was going to get me in trouble. I definitely wasn't mentioning Lord Elrond, though. That was for sure. 'I just… know. It will be alright.'
"You 'just know', Miss Hollander?" he questioned, resorting back to his authoritative voice. Obviously the memo about names had not reached him. That, or he was simply not comfortable calling me by anything else yet.
Understandable, I supposed. A sigh left me, not wanting to get into this map stuff while it was rainy and gross and everyone was about as giddy as an amputated leg. 'It save time. Kili learn at same time as me. Not have to do later,' I explained. It just made sense.
Thorin's priority was, of course, the map. He at least appeared to be considering my suggestion, which wouldn't even have been plausible two weeks ago. Erebor was at the forefront of his mind and he truly had no idea when the information about the secret entrance would be available, but I could also tell he wanted Kili to know the language. I mean, it was his nephew, after all. Thorin needed some kind of reassurance that slowing my Iglishmêk progress wouldn't hinder the expedition…
Because it convinced him oh so well last time – note my sarcasm – I decided to poke my hand forward, with just my pinky sticking out.
Obviously, Thorin gave me the most stone-cold look possible. Really? Again? he seemed to ask without a single word.
I just lifted my eyebrows and nodded towards my hand until he humored me (I was certain that's all it was) by raising his hand to the level of mine and connecting our pinkies again, a resigned sigh barely escaping him. The rough skin was much warmer than my own and I had to stop myself from wondering if the rest of him was the same cozy temperature. Dammit, brain, please do not do this right now.
"You swear we will have the necessary information before reaching Erebor?" he established. The tone was a confusing mix between agitated and amused, leaving me unsure of whether he actually believed my pinky promises.
I nodded, 100% certain of at least the map's secrets and when they would be revealed.
"Very well," Thorin said as we squeezed pinkies and awkwardly let them slide from the other's grip. I figured the only reason I was able to convince him this quickly was because it was Kili we were dealing with. Had it been someone else, I wasn't so sure it would have been enough to sway the tide that was Thorin's map anxiety.
There was a pause as thunder rumbled somewhere in the distance. After it passed, the Dwarf King absently added in a low tone, "This should not have been a concern in the first place."
Unsure of what he was talking about, I found my head tilting on its own, question in my eyes.
Thorin spotted the look I was giving. It was almost like he realized belatedly that he had, in fact, added the sentence aloud. I gave him props for running with it though, as he continued this train of thought regardless of whether he meant to start it or not. He turned his gaze away slightly, answering, "Kili; his Iglishmêk should not be a concern at this age."
Feeling awkward, I went for the humor card. 'I only learn just now,' I joked.
This earned a wry half-smile, but was not nearly as funny as I'd hoped. "You are not a Dwarrow, nor of the Line of Durin, Miss Hollander," Thorin replied sternly, though not harsh or loud enough to be heard by others over the rain. "Yours is a unique situation. While Kili is not my heir, he still has a duty as a member of the royal family. Our languages are not a task; they are an honor to be upheld."
Pursing my lips, I thought about that for a moment. If I remembered correctly, Fili and Kili were the equivalent of human teenagers, and I tried to consider my own late teens. Finally feeling bold enough, I asked, 'You saw not as task when you were young? You saw as honor?'
Thorin appeared momentarily surprised that I would ask that, a mild challenge to him in a way. Then the surprise melded into a vague thoughtfulness, like he was trying to recall his own lessons in Iglishmêk, once upon a time.
"Eventually," he answered slowly, meeting my gaze. "I did, yes."
I didn't let that one pass by. 'But not right at first?'
As he realized where I was going with this, Thorin scowled slightly. It became obvious he understood what point I was trying to make and didn't like my cheek at the situation, but knew I was right. Kili was young and had a lot to learn. It didn't make the ditching of Iglishmêk lessons any more excusable and he still deserved pony cleaning duty for letting everyone believe he knew it for so long. However, it wasn't all that unexpected. Royal or not, no matter the world, teenagers were pretty much universal in their tendencies.
"Though it is a grave thought that I do not wish to dwell on… should anything happen to Fili, then Kili would take on the role of my heir," Thorin said morosely.
I tried not to wriggle nervously at that, giving a half nod to get him to resume.
He continued, "My own duties are not few, and I cannot be with them at all times. Responsibility is an asset Kili must learn while he is still afforded leeway. They are not Dwarflings, Miss Hollander."
I wasn't disagreeing, so simply added, 'Still young though.'
Thorin exhaled slowly, meeting my stare with a casualness that was new. "Aye," he granted. "Still young."
A flash of lightning and burst of thunder much closer than the last one caused me to jump, startling me out of the amicable atmosphere I was just beginning to enjoy. The rain was going at it just as strongly as when we first stopped to make camp, much to our annoyance, but it could be worse, I supposed. Bofur could have been right about the flooding.
The conversation died off with that interruption. Thorin cleared his throat in a way that made me think he hadn't actually meant to vent, though it made me slightly giddy to think he was becoming comfortable enough around me to do so at all.
"Inform Kili that he will join you for lessons with Balin tomorrow," he said, back to his usual stern exterior.
Obviously a dismissal, I nodded and gave a smile, pleased with how everything went. 'Good night,' I motioned before I could chicken out.
He did not say a goodnight back, but instead gave his signature downward chin tilt that basically translated to 'ditto'. Good enough for me.
Wandering back over to where Balin and the young princes were waiting, I was greeted by curious looks from the latter two as I sat down.
"I assume it went well, then?" Balin guessed though he clearly knew the answer.
I smiled and nodded a yes, expanding upon that with, 'Kili start to learn with me tom... next morning.'
Balin showed me the correct gesture for 'tomorrow' briefly before responding. "Excellent. Might as well get it out of the way now rather than later," he said.
"What is it?" Kili asked, shifting his attention between myself and Balin, then to Thorin for a split second, before coming back to me. "What did he say?"
"You'll be taking lessons with Jenna from now on, Kee," Fili answered. "Since you didn't exactly do it right the first time."
Kili seemed conflicted, but eventually realized this would be better than just studying on his own. "Alright. And you don't have to keep reminding me. I know skipping lessons wasn't the smartest thing I've ever done, but you know I was busy at the time."
"Oh yes, the tournament, I know," said Fili breezily.
Quite interested in this tournament, I asked, 'How did he do?'
Fili blinked shortly, glancing at Kili. "He did just fine, of course – best archer in Ered Luin, if I may brag on my brother for a moment. Right up until the end. He choked while shooting the final target."
Heaving a sigh, Kili stared at the roof of our cave for a second before groaning out, "Contrary to popular belief, I did not choke. I ate… a bad pudding or something."
"Ah, I do remember that now," Balin joined in. "You lost your dinner there in the field, did you not?"
Kili's face was just purely sour by now. "Yes, I did, but not because I choked."
I could only reach across Fili and pat Kili's arm, a smirk trying to curl its way onto my face. Kili's eyes were dangerously narrow, but it just sent me into giggles as I pulled away, knowing he wasn't serious. It was proved a few seconds later when he couldn't help but smile back slightly, merely embarrassed and not actually mad.
There was a lull where Fili glanced over to Thorin's side of the alcove, then gave me a curious look. I met his eyes expectantly, wondering what the prince was thinking, and urged him to speak with a tweak of my brows.
"So, what was that you did…?" he asked me, holding his hands up and linking his pinkies together. "What does this mean?"
I answered with a smile. 'Promise.'
"It's a promise of some kind," Fili murmured to Kili, who had been just as interested. Now they were both staring, little gears turning in their heads, and I just let them wonder out of impishness.
The next day of rain was just as drowsy and soggy as the last. Perhaps even more so, considering we were already soaked from the previous day's downpour. Then there was the little matter of Mother Nature still trying to murder me, as if it wasn't dreary enough without that drama. I could only hope it would stop completely before I had to run from Trolls or Wargs. Yeugh.
An upside to all of it though – I got my stitches out. Yay!
"There we are," Oín announced, leaning back to check over his handy work. The injury had been bandaged again to prevent it from reopening, but full mend was right around the corner. "Mind ye take it easy for a few days. You'll have a scar, of course, but ye should count yourself lucky that's all that came of it."
With breakfast already devoured and some brief Iglishmêk lessons over with (Kili having joined us for this particular session), the camp was being taken down for the morning so that we could head off again. Nearby, Fili and Kili sidled over upon noticing my stitches had been removed. Oín packed his medical supplies up, giving me a tip of his head to say ciao for now, leaving me with the princes. The rain had calmed to a light drizzle for the time being, though it was likely to come back soon if the clouds were any indication.
"Lucky indeed," Fili mused as they approached. "You know, now that you can communicate better, you still haven't told us what exactly happened."
Nodding, Kili agreed and said, "Yes. How did you get in such a bind in the first place?"
From my seat on the damp boulder Oín had me sit on to remove my stitches, I noticed they were not the only ones whose interest was piqued. The Ur family, for example, wound up taking a look over from their packing activities when the subject arose. I supposed they would most certainly be interested, considering they were the ones who had to deal with the impromptu fishing trip in order to save me.
'I was lost in woods. Walk a lot. Find men,' I explained, a bit nervous for some reason, my hands a bit twitchy. 'Men were not good. They try to… hurt me. I run. I jump in to water. I try to swim. Not work very good.' I gave a sardonic snort at that, continuing, 'Bifur, Bofur, Bombur find me. Save me.'
Bofur and Bombur were watching me with a look of concern, like they were worried I had been traumatized by the event. While the experience was about as fun as a getting a pineapple shoved up your nose, I survived, and it was thanks to them, so I gave a smile to tell them I was fine. Bofur's expression warmed when he smiled back, reverting to that jovial state, joined by Bombur's own timid smile as he packed away the rest of the cooking gear. Bifur was… preoccupied. And by preoccupied, I mean he had taken off his boot and decided to look for something inside of it. I hoped it was only a pebble or something and not another toad he'd forgotten about.
"Well, alright, but how did you wind up here? In Middle Earth?" Kili asked after Fili played translator once more. "You said you're from a different world?"
Oh. Uh… That was a little more complicated.
I frowned as I tried to come up with an explanation that was simple enough to say, and yet not overly revealing. 'Yavanna,' I struggled to sign her massive name, 'send me here. She talk to me. Take voice. Give… task.'
"Task?" Fili puzzled. "What sort of task?"
Oh goodie. In all the nights of interrogation by Thorin, his nephews manage to corner me in a few measly sentences.
I stopped signing immediately, hands frozen mid air. Quickly, I maneuvered the conversation in a different direction by correcting myself, saying, 'Just… quest. When quest done, voice back.' It was the truth, give or take a giant war involved.
Through with returning his packs to the saddle of his pony, Bofur had meandered over to finally join us. "So, ye're saying your voice'll come back after we've reclaimed Erebor?" he questioned, looking quite hopeful for me. "Well what's the purpose of takin' your voice in the first place?"
I shrugged, having asked myself why it was necessary from day one.
"Not being able to speak for so long…" Kili said, thinking on the situation. "I don't know what I would do without a voice."
Fili nonchalantly quipped with a cheeky smirk, "Brother, it would be a miracle if you didn't have a voice."
Kili came back just as quickly, saying, "The true miracle would be how you'd survive without the sweet sound of it."
"I survived for five years without it. I don't believe I would be too bothered to go another hundred or so as well," Fili joked, giving his brother a gentle push.
I watched the two kid around for a moment before chuckling, grabbing my backpack, and standing. I treaded a few yards over, strapping the bag onto Stormy so I wouldn't be the rotten egg who got ready last. The grey pony wiggled about, until I put a hand along the side of her neck, giving a few good strokes, remembering that after the rain came the trolls… I only had one or two more days with her, at most. The thought made me sad, but I could only hope the ponies would find a good home after their escape. Preferably not in the belly of a Warg, either…
The odd feeling sprang up that others had been listening to the previous conversation as well, wanting answers about Miss Map Tats McGee over here. My guts were correct, I realized as I paused for a second. I hadn't noticed that it was unusually hushed until just then, and I knew the remainder of the Company had been eavesdropping. Well. It wasn't really eavesdropping, considering we were all in the same little area, but close enough.
"Jenna," Kili said, pulling my attention back to the duo. They had ceased the bantering, putting on serious faces as they caught up with me near the ponies, returning to the earlier subject. "Once your wound isn't in danger of reopening, we'd like to teach you some self-defense."
"Just so that doesn't happen anymore," Fili reasoned with a gesture to my arm as he crossed his own.
Caught off guard by the proposition, I stared at them with wide eyes.
The younger prince glanced at Fili then back to me, saying, "We're sorry if we assumed you didn't know how to fight, but… it is true, correct?"
I frowned a little at that and scrunched up my lips.
"I'm going to take that as a yes," Fili murmured, ignoring my tiny glare. He put up his hands in a playful mockery of surrender and added, "We don't mean our lady any insult. We are simply trying to help."
"Teaching the lass a few tricks wouldn't be a half bad idea," Bofur chimed in from a little further away. I stared at him, too, wondering if they had all just gone insane. I wasn't a fighter.
"We're not asking you to become a decorated warrior," Kili said encouragingly, apparently having read my mind (or just my terrified face). "We just don't want you to get hurt again, you see?"
"Grown quite fond of you, myself. Can't speak for the others, o'course, but I'd rather not be draggin' you out of anymore rivers," said Bofur, his mustache tilting to accommodate the little half-grin.
The idea of learning self-defense, while a reasonable one, left my hands feeling clammy. He did have a point, though. Even if the thought of a fight was nausea inducing, I realized there was no escaping it in this world, especially if I wanted to save their asses at the end of it all. I couldn't exactly help them if my head was propped up on a pike somewhere by Orcs, now could I? Just on the very first day, I'd nearly been molested and murdered by random people. Not even Orcs. Just some dudes that were camping! What did I think was going to happen if I didn't learn a few things?
"Just some basics at first, then maybe we'll see where it goes from there, alright?" suggested Fili, setting a hand on my shoulder. The contact was welcome as it grounded me, keeping me from thinking too far ahead. Keeping me from thinking about the rest of the quest and what absolute quacks I might have to fight.
Quickly, before I could turn down the offer, I nodded. It was something I had to do. Even my chicken-ass self could recognize that.
Satisfied, the princes and Bofur saddled up just as it was time to go. I hopped on Stormy, sullenly pulling my cloak's hood over my head when the rain started up again. Great timing, nature. Thanks.
Though daylight permeated the clouds, the rain was a constant irritant as several hours passed. The dirt road became so saturated, our ponies were basically just sloshing through mud at this point, and I had never wanted to curl up in a dry bed so badly in my life. This was why I avoided the wilderness. Dwalin was right with what he said at Bag End. A naïve lass with no experience in the world, indeed. With this much water around us, I half expected to find Nemo flopping about somewhere.
Beside me, Bilbo was trotting along with the same amount of gusto. That is to say, none at all. We hadn't been able to talk much (well, I say talk) between my learning Iglishmêk and travelling, so I offered him a smile despite the mood this foul weather was tossing onto me.
The Hobbit glanced up just in time to catch this. He returned the smile, albeit a little dismally, his hair absolutely sopping wet. "How have you been holding up, Miss – er, Jenna?" he asked, remembering at the last second that I had officially called for a drop of the formality.
I quirked my lips, giving a glance up at the tree branches above us being pummeled by water before wobbling my head with a shrug.
"Yes – it seems that's how we're all faring at the moment," Bilbo huffed.
Behind us, Balin overheard, trying to comfort him with, "It can't last forever, lad. We must simply ride through it and hope for the best."
"The motto of life," Nori mused, somewhere even further back. I didn't turn around, so as not to lead Stormy straight into Myrtle, but heard him say with incredible sarcasm, "Sure is a shame we don't have a wizard or the like. Oh, wait…"
"Here," joined in Dori, asking a little louder, "Mister Gandalf, can't you do something about this deluge?"
My head perked up expectantly at those familiar words. Bilbo peeked over at me and assumed my behavior was from hope that the shower might be stopped.
At the front of our procession, right next to Thorin, Gandalf called over his shoulder, "It is raining, Master Dwarf, and it will continue to rain until the rain is done." There was a moment before he felt it necessary to tack at the end, "If you wish to change the weather of the world, you should find yourself another wizard."
I couldn't help the smirk that tried to creep up on me. Would this ever get old? Knowing what people would say at certain points before they even did?
"Are there any?" Bilbo wondered, right on time, though he seemed a little disappointed to find the soggy conditions would not be magically fixed.
"What?" Gandalf asked for clarification.
"Other wizards," the Hobbit replied.
Through the drizzle, Gandalf answered, "There are five of us. The greatest of our order is Saruman, the White. Then there are the two blue wizards… You know, I've quite forgotten their names..."
Bilbo and I shared an amused look before he asked, "And who is the fifth?"
"Well, that would be Radagast, the Brown," Gandalf said quite happy to sate the curiosity.
"Is he a great wizard?" Bilbo inquired, pausing to add some shade with, "Or is he… more like you?"
I had to tilt my head away to keep from laughing visibly.
Gandalf was not impressed by the direction this conversation had taken, glancing over his shoulder to look at Bilbo again, probably questioning his judgment in bringing such a sassy Hobbit. "I think he's a very great wizard, in his own way," said Gandalf. "He's a gentle soul who prefers the company of animals to others. He keeps a watchful eye over the vast forest lands to the East. And a good thing too, for always evil will look to find a foothold in this world."
Somewhere in those exact forest lands, I knew Radagast was having an absolute blast right about then. Seeing a whole lot of your dead critter friends, getting cornered in your hut while giant arachnids tried to invade, and bringing your hedgehog pal back to life only to make a mad dash away on your bunny powered sled to find out the truth of Dol Guldur. Not exactly my idea of a grand Friday night.
"Evil's found a foothold right in my achin' rear," Gloin announced. There were a few chuckles from others who felt the same way, myself included. Just because my muscles were accustomed to riding now didn't my ass was immune to going numb.
We took a midday break shortly after that, but it was only later in the day that the clouds began clearing out. The forest thinned as well as we continued. Though the weather was becoming more agreeable, it didn't mean my mood lightened, however. If anything, I grew more apprehensive the clearer the sky became, knowing what was just around the corner. And I do mean around the corner.
The rain had finally stopped entirely, leaving the sun to shine for the first time in days. Our group had been heading forward on a slight incline, the terrain looking more and more familiar – large, angular rocks jutting out of the ground, though the grass was still just as green as could be, while the forest remained thick on our left side. Coming up to another incline, we rounded a hill that the forest protruded upon and as soon as the trees were out of my line of sight, I spotted the easily recognizable scene.
"We'll camp here for the night," Thorin informed the Company, bringing his pony to a stop and turning it to face us. He dismounted and, as always, the rest of us began to do the same. "Fili, Kili – look after the ponies. Make sure you stay with them."
I was barely paying attention after I got off of Stormy, my eyes stuck on the burnt up farmhouse with its half-collapsed roof. It was nestled a little ways uphill from us, looking just as crispy as I recalled from the film, though perhaps more foreboding than I remembered. Maybe that was just my old buddy named Anxiety. Either way, I watched as Gandalf made his way into what was left of the building.
Honestly, I did think about warning Thorin of the Trolls that would show up. I really did. It was then that I remembered the Troll hoard and, of course, the three very important swords they would find inside – Glamdring, which would be used by Gandalf many times; Orcrist, who would accompany Thorin throughout the quest; and Sting. The tiny blade would play such a large role in both this journey and the one Frodo would take in The Lord of the Rings.
In fact, the more I thought about it, the more I realized I couldn't change anything before we crossed the Misty Mountains. If I fucked up and caused Bilbo to miss finding the One Ring? We would have a lot more on our plate than just the quest for Erebor. Like, try the quest for all of Middle Earth.
Somehow I didn't imagine the little Hobbits were old enough for that task just yet.
"Oin, Gloin," I heard Thorin address as he passed them.
Gloin looked up from his pack attentively. "Aye?"
"Get a fire going," the Dwarf King finished, making his way towards the farmhouse and towards Gandalf, where my eyes were still locked.
"Right ya are," Gloin said. "Excuse me, lass."
Abruptly, I remembered that I did, in fact, have a corporal body that could get in people's way. I scooted aside with an apologetic nod so Gloin could pass by to go collect firewood, and looked around for Fili and Kili. They located me faster than I located them, Fili walking over to take Stormy for me and Kili still on his own pony.
"Would the lady like a hand with her steed?" Kili asked playfully as he rode closer, pulling to a stop.
I almost didn't want to pass her off, honestly. My hand skimmed over the pony's nose again with fondness, as it was the last time I would ever see her, and I couldn't help the glum feeling that crept up on me. Dammit, Jenna. You knew better than to get attached to this thing.
"Are you alright?" Fili asked, inspecting my demeanor with a slight frown.
Dropping my hand from Stormy's nose, I handed the reins to Fili while nodding a little too quickly, untying my bag from the pony and slinging it over my shoulder harshly. He seemed taken aback at my behavior and paused, his brother becoming worried too.
"You… don't seem alright," Kili insisted, leaning forward on his saddle to take a closer look. "Are you sure? Do you feel unwell?"
I decided to just roll with it, grabbing onto that little lifeline and only halfway fibbed with a rub of my stomach and a grimace. Giving a shrug, I pretended to nod with reluctance – it wasn't a complete lie. My period was trying to finish up, after all, and I did still feel kind of gross.
"We'll have supper going before long – hopefully once you get something on your stomach, you'll feel better," Fili said, patting me on the arm once.
Before we could do anything else, I caught sight of Gandalf storming away from the farmhouse and, more specifically, from Thorin.
"Everything alright?" asked Bilbo from beside his pony and Balin, who looked equally concerned. Gandalf went straight by without a glance, causing the Hobbit to blurt in a slight panic, "Gandalf, where are you going?"
"To seek the company of the only one around here who's got any sense," answered the Wizard irritably as he kept going, passing by Dwalin, then Oín and Gloin, who all had the same confused face.
"And who's that?" Bilbo quickly asked.
"Myself, Mister Baggins!" Gandalf basically shouted in response, still not looking back. As he passed by the two princes and me, he grumbled, "I've had enough of Dwarves for one day…"
Now properly grouchy, Thorin made the call for Bombur to begin making supper as Gandalf moseyed back around the hill we had come from, passed the trees, and vanished from sight. Fili and Kili shared another mind-melding look with each other before leaving me be so they could go tend to the rest of the ponies as they were told.
With nothing else for it, I readjusted my pack on my shoulders and followed the remainder of the Company up to the ruined farmhouse. As the sun began heading downward, Gloin had already set to work on the fire, nesting it right in the center of the ruins. With little walls of brick standing around us at knee height and a dilapidated roof still holding up somewhat, it was more covered than what I had gotten used to so far in our journey. The whole thing might have been cozy had I not known the former owners of the place had been devoured by Trolls.
My stomach twisted at the thought, and I set my backpack down beside an old crate covered in soot. Given, pretty much everything in this place was covered in soot, but the box looked like it would make a good seat later. If I ever actually sat down, that was.
I couldn't stop fidgeting. The kicker was that I knew I was drawing attention to myself, but I couldn't help it. I was so nervous. The Troll debacle would happen so soon – it felt too soon, like I should still be rolling out of bed at Bag End on that first morning. Time was flying and it terrified me. After the Trolls, we would have to deal with Wargs chasing us and… I mean, have I mentioned that I am not good at running?
Bombur had barely begun unpacking his cooking utensils when he caught sight of me, picking at my sleeves, looking off towards the forest. Yanking my eyes away from the trees was difficult, but if I kept staring, they were going to figure out something was up. I met Bombur's inquisitive expression and realized I had been spacing out again. He tilted his head a bit instead of verbally asking if I was alright, ever the quiet one, and was met with my poorly formed smile and listless shrug that probably gave away every thought in my skull.
The cooking fire kicked up momentarily from a breeze, thankfully drawing Bombur's concentration away from my weird behavior as he helped Gloin get it back to normal. He returned to adjusting the kettle above the fire and I quickly moved to find something to preoccupy myself with before he could wonder on the situation further.
I nearly tripped over my own backpack while trying to vacate the premises nervously. Giving the pack a nudge out of the way with my foot, further towards the little brick wall, I stepped around it and out of the way of everyone who was still trying to get things set up. Was there anyone who needed help? Was there anything at all I could do to not think?
I asked around, eventually finding Dori bringing over the stew ingredients. Helping him carry those took all of two seconds, which was not nearly enough time to take my mind off things, so I continued looking for literally anything to do. For half a second, I nearly asked Nori if he needed help cutting up the meat, but took one look at the mess and instantly knew my stomach could not handle that at this time.
About half an hour passed by in this fashion – me, panicking, being overly helpful and earning stares, forcing myself to calm down, then getting hyped up again and starting the process all over.
Way to be discreet, Jenna.
Bilbo, it turned out, was in a similar state of nervousness. It was obviously for different reasons, but it was nice to see someone else having a good old time with Mister Anxiety. The more the merrier, as it goes.
The Hobbit was traipsing about the crispy farmhouse, his little fists balling up then loosening as he kept glancing in the direction that Gandalf had gone. He paused his pacing at a wooden beam that may have once been holding the roof up, but was now just standing upright against part of the house.
I made my way over, stopping beside Bilbo. It took him a while to even realize I was there, doing a double take before looking back to the forest. "Sorry, it's just…" he began, then brought his eyes to me again. "Has Gandalf not been gone for quite a while now?"
With the sun having abandoned the sky, it was almost impossible from where we were to see the route Gandalf had taken. I still looked in the direction all the same, the topic simply calling for it, and gave a shrug. I was doing a lot of shrugging today, wasn't I?
Bilbo saw the gesture for the useless thing it was and gave a bland expression before he said, "Thank you. That is very helpful."
I raised an eyebrow at the snappishness, though I didn't bother getting upset over it. There were more worrisome things on my mind.
He noted the look on my face before taking a deep breath. "I am sorry – again. That was a bit rude of me, wasn't it?" Bilbo conceded a little softer, resting one hand on the wooden beam and another hand on his hip. He took that moment to actually look at me, tipping his head and squinting his eyes to try and see some tiny giveaway I knew must be visible. "Is – is something bothering you as well? You've been awfully quie… ah, I mean. You've been a little less – yourself, since we stopped this evening."
Dear, shoulder-height, overly-perceptive Bilbo Baggins.
Adding to my never-ending list of shrugs for the day, I gave another one in reply, rubbing my stomach and taking a glance behind us where Bofur was beginning to divvy out the stew. I was actually happy to have a warm meal again after the rain, even if it was just the same stuff we had before.
Bilbo watched my motion and gave a slight nod. "If that's all it is, I suppose I can understand that. Hobbits and their food, after all," he said with a nervous chuckle. He inhaled deeply afterwards to calm himself, though it didn't really work, because he immediately dropped his hands from their spots and began stretching his hands in that fretful fashion again. He stepped away from the beam, huffing out with another glance to the forest as he walked away, "He's been a long time."
Bofur, from beside the large kettle hanging over the fire, said, "Who?"
"Gandalf," the Hobbit responded anxiously.
"He's a wizard. He does as he chooses," Bofur said, not worried in the least. He filled up two bowls as Bilbo came his direction, and handed them off with a quick, "Can ye do us a favor? Take these to the lads."
That was about enough to send my own anxiety through the roof. Not that it would have been difficult. Both the metaphorical roof and the physical roof above us were already on their last legs.
Deciding I should at least try to act normal, I meandered over to Bofur after the Hobbit departed, just as he was swatting his little brother away from the stew, saying, "Stop it – you've had plenty." Normal me would have been chomping at the bits to get some food in her tummy by now, so I came up beside the friendly Dwarf as Bombur walked away with a little pout.
"Ready for some stew there, lass?" Bofur asked me as he picked up an unused bowl. When he went to dip the ladle, he glanced up at me, a small frown cropping up. "Ye feeling alright?"
Now properly getting tired of the question, I sighed, putting on my best smile and nodding. Of course Bofur could read me like a neon sign, but his thoughtfulness did make me feel a little better. Everything would be fine. I needed to find my chill.
"If ye say so," Bofur said, not sounding convinced, though passed me a bowl nonetheless. "Here, get somethin' in that stomach. Maybe it'll help."
If you asked these guys, food was the answer to basically everything.
Whether it would help or not, I took the bowl with a thankful nod. I was deep in thought as I maneuvered around, not really paying attention, though also trying to recall where I set my backpack in my earlier daze. Lord, could I even eat in this state? Or would I just wind up staring at it until it was time to get captured by Trolls? Would I even be going? Would they make me stay here? Or would I have –
This thought was cut off when my foot snagged on my backpack. The backpack I didn't remember moving, because I had been zoned out the entire evening.
When my foot snagged, I fell forward, losing the grip on my bowl and having it fly out of my hand as I stumbled onto the sooty box I only just then recalled. The landing jarred me, but I heard the soppy splash of stew hitting someone and the bowl clattering to the ground. There were two or three gasps. I don't know who from.
I looked up.
Oh for – for fuck's sake! Again?!
Absolute mortification swallowed me whole when I realized Thorin had been standing there, about to eat as well when the human disaster struck. He inhaled sharply through his nose, remaining tight-lipped as the stew seeped into his clothing. His coat, his armor, his shirt – there was stew everywhere.
I didn't suppose that stuff had any time to cool down beforehand either, did it?
Thorin had to set his own bowl down on the brick wall in order to deal with card he had just been dealt, and gave me a passing glance – passing glare, more like – before taking a cloth rag that was suddenly tossed to him by Dwalin. The whole place was awkwardly quiet and I didn't even have to look around to know everyone was watching this fudge up.
Pushing myself off of the crate, I stood up straight again, embarrassed past the point of no return. My hands fumbled the apology so many times, I would have been surprised if anyone understood a single, full 'Sorry' out of it.
Thorin watched my signing briefly before looking back down at his coat as he wiped it off, getting the gist of what I was trying to say. When his coat was mostly clear, he slipped it off and set it aside as he began working on his shirt and his armor. I thought I spotted a chunk of potato stuck in the tiny metal plates…
Goddammit.
"Miss Hollander," Thorin ground out, obviously trying his hardest not to throttle me. He had already been in a bad mood because of Gandalf, so this probably didn't help matters. "It would be a benefit to all of us should you pay attention to your surroundings," he said vehemently, meeting my eyes. I could only give a small nod as I hunched my shoulders sheepishly.
Nobody was saying anything, waiting for the drama to either blow up or fizzle out.
It was about then, right as I was ready to curl up in humiliation and as he was still patting his shirt down, that he paused.
Thorin's expression shifted. It wasn't a good shift, either. His eyes widened a bit and he looked down at his clothing like there was something incredibly wrong with it, and I frowned, trying to figure out what was going on.
Then he reached into his overcoat, on the side that had literally taken most of the stew, and pulled out…
Oh no.
Oh no.
I heard several Company members stand up to see what their king had pulled out of his pocket. Dwalin was beside Thorin by that point, and next to him, Balin had joined as well. I felt more than saw Bofur come up to my side to take a peek, too, as others started to cluster.
In all its halfway broth-saturated glory, still neatly folded, Thror's Map was revealed. Thorin met my eyes once more with a look that had a chance of either meaning 'oh shit' or… 'never come within a mile of me ever again', and I was hoping desperately that it was the first option.
He began to carefully unfold it as the Company murmured around us, asking if it was still legible. Asking if it had been damaged too terribly.
"Can ye still make everything out, lad?" Balin asked.
There was a long pause as Thorin scanned the fully opened map, inspecting it. There were large blotches of reddish-brown across half of it, coloring the paper darker. I wasn't so much worried about the runes still being legible as I was worried about the sentiment behind it. I mean, I had the whole thing permanently on my arm if worse came to worse, but that map was a link to his father and grandfather. I didn't want to be the ass who ruined it.
However, relying on Supergirl over here for a remaining copy of the map would have been less than ideal in his eyes, I was willing to bet.
"All is well," Thorin finally said after a tense moment, earning a few murmurs of relief from the others as they took a few steps back. When Thorin stepped forward, in my direction, I grew worried that he was coming over to rant about my spacing out. We locked eyes again, but he said nothing, instead setting the map down gently on the crate so that it could dry.
My relief was instant. I looked around briefly before spotting half a brick on the ground nearby, bending to grab it and hand it to him as a sort of apology. He stared at it like he was tempted to refuse it out of spite, but wound up taking the makeshift paperweight all the same. Thorin set it on one corner of the map while I bent to grab another bit of brick, hoping this tiny interaction meant I was mostly forgiven.
Before I could even hand it off, though, we were interrupted.
"Trolls! Trolls have taken the ponies!"
I turned to see Fili running up the hill towards us, shouting the announcement. The Dwarves began making worrisome noises, all pretty much having the same shocked reaction, as I was having a mini heart attack.
Thorin froze and jerked his head up as his nephew arrived at the edge of the farmhouse. "What?" he demanded, glancing around for another young Dwarf that was nowhere to be found. "Where's Kili?"
"He's with Bilbo," Fili answered quickly. "We must hurry – our burglar was trying to sneak past the Trolls and free the ponies when I left."
The whole place was instantly full of activity. Every Dwarf turned to grab their weapons, wherever they had left them sitting, and I was still standing in the exact same spot, clutching the tiny paperweight, wondering what the hell to do. Should I just chill here? Should I go purely to watch through some bushes?
It took the group all of three seconds to gather their things. Fili had already split the scene, eager to get back to his brother, with several others ready to follow as soon as Thorin made the call. As I caught sight of the Ur Family revving up, so did he.
"Bofur!" Thorin barked.
The Miner already had his heavy mattock in hand, momentum making it difficult for him to come to a grinding halt at the edge of the hill. "Aye? What is it?" Bofur asked.
"Stay with Miss Hollander," commanded Thorin with a glance in my direction that caused me to tense up, adjusting his grip on his sword as he sprinted out of the farmhouse and out of sight.
The rest of the Company followed their King, Bombur and Bifur pausing momentarily to share a look with Bofur. Of course, Bofur simply waved them on casually like someone missing a pizza party, letting his mining mattock slide to the ground again with a heavy thunk.
"Go on, you two! Don't miss the action on our account!" he called out to them. They hesitated, but wound up giving nods and continuing after the others with the same fervor as before. The rustle of bushes and the thud of Dwarven boots faded away into the forest on that note, leaving just me, Bofur, and a whole lot of luggage in the farmhouse.
It was… abnormally quiet.
"I suppose this is where the waitin' game begins then," he sighed, leaning on his mattock. He turned away from the forest, heaving the massive tool over his shoulder before taking a couple steps across the dilapidated building and setting it back down in its original spot.
I did nothing for a few long seconds, still holding the bit of brick that I had been about to hand off to Thorin. Glancing down at the map awkwardly, I went ahead and set the weight on the opposite end of the paper so it wouldn't blow away, and so it would dry a little flatter. Though the right half of the map that held the Lonely Mountain was dry, the other half – the half with the hand pointing – was pretty damp.
My luck with Thorin so far made me want to go hop in the Trolls' cooking pot and save myself anymore future trouble with him.
Bofur shuffled over to where I was staring at the map, popping up to peek over my shoulder at the map then at myself. "At least it's all in one piece," he commented. "Not that it would've been the end of the quest or anythin'. We've still got you, after all – our wee backup plan, if ye don't mind my sayin' as much."
I knew he was just trying to keep me from worrying about the others. Even though I was a little worried, it was probably for a different reason than he was thinking. If Bofur wasn't with them, would things change? Would events be altered too drastically by taking away one single Dwarf? I began walking back and forth between one end of the farmhouse to the other, knowing it wouldn't be that odd for me to appear nervous now.
Should we go after them? If they were in the middle of negotiating with the Trolls, would we startle the massive creatures and get someone crushed to death? If we were caught, would they bother putting us in sacks, or would they just eat us immediately after dealing with the aggravation of the others? Alternatively, if we didn't go, would the Company still get out just the same? Or would one of our friends be brutally murdered because Bofur wasn't there to cover their back in the initial fight?
Oh God, I was gonna hurl if these questions didn't stop floating around in my head.
"They'll have it all figured out in no time, lass," Bofur kept chatting away, picking up a stick to stoke the fire with and having a seat beside the warmth. "Dwarves are sturdy folk – those Trolls won't stand a chance. Especially against the likes of Bifur. Why, I remember the first time I saw him properly riled. It was a little gathering we had several decades ago – don't even think my mustache was but fuzz at the time – and some ticklebrain decided to pick on our Bombur."
This drew my attention, and I was able to stop pacing without feeling ready to explode.
Bofur went on to tell me of the great showdown that Bifur had with the… uh, ticklebrain as he called him. The calamity resulted in two smashed tables, an obliterated chair, and a large amount of ale on the floor, not to mention an angry Dwarrowdam who had to buy find new furniture afterwards. He continued the story into their assisting the lady Dwarf with the new furnishings, and I was eventually able to make myself sit down next to the fire as well, letting him shift the tale into other stories to pass the time.
Though my comrade was incredibly talented with keeping my worries at bay, he was beginning to get antsy himself after about the third little anecdote. Normally, Bofur wasn't one to become anxious easily, but he had no way of knowing how his family and friends were faring against the Trolls. With each of his glances back to the forest, I realized I didn't know the true answer to that question anymore either and it was unsettling.
I have no idea how much time passed before Bofur stood up again, unable to stay calmly seated any longer. It had been half an hour, at most, but my perception of time was really messed up in this place, especially with how on edge I was.
Trying to see any sign of activity, Bofur padded over to the edge of the farmhouse, near the beam that Bilbo and I were earlier that evening. He stared out, having given up the pretense of complete nonchalance that he'd shown for my sake.
"They've been quite a while now," Bofur said, propping his hands on his hips as he tapped a foot. The action gave him the appearance of a worried mother, and he took a look back to me, asking with a huff, "What do ye think, Jenna? Should we go check on 'em? Make sure… nothin' went wrong?"
Good lord. His normal aura of sunshine was waning into a cloud of unease and it made me feel like the worst actual person in the world. Bofur was not meant to be this way. It was like watching Pikachu cry or something. He needed his smile back, pronto.
Screw it, I thought, getting to my feet. If nothing else, we could just go assess the situation and make sure everyone was okay. At my action, Bofur seemed to bounce back to life and moved to grab his mattock so we could leave.
That was about when shit hit the fan.
I had barely taken a step when I caught sight of movement in my peripheral. There was no time to warn Bofur when a tall figure lurched in his direction from out of the shadows, before he could grab his weapon, causing the Dwarf to holler in surprise as they collided. A struggle began as they crashed to the ground, and while frozen in shock, I caught sight of blonde hair. I recognized the intruder almost instantly.
My heart gave a jolt of terror as I heard the rustle of fabric behind me and I spun around. Just in time, too, as my wide eyes locked onto the leering face of Jean, not three feet away. He stepped over the brick wall effortlessly thanks to his long legs, heading my way with purpose.
"Miss Hollander," greeted Jean with a smirk, just as creepy as I remembered.
I backed up rapidly until the backs of my calves hit the crate, trying desperately to keep space between us. The fuck…? Why were these guys here?!
There was a giant clang as the stew pot was kicked from its position over the fire, scattering a few half lit twigs beneath it when it landed. I flicked my eyes over to see Bofur having pinned Gavin, the source of the flailing feet and some raging curses, and my hopes lifted for the situation.
Of course, my attention should have never left Jean.
Next thing I knew, the guy was hurtling towards me. I panicked and made a mad dash in Bofur's direction, which was easily intercepted as my upper arm was snagged. The sudden grip was tight enough to make me gasp in pain and reflexively jerk back. His grasp held strong, however, causing my alarm to rise.
"You travel with the one they call Thorin Oakenshield," Jean said confidently, out of the blue.
I stopped moving and stared at him. My first instinct was to shake my head, which only pissed him off.
"Do not lie to me!" he snarled. I didn't even see his hand move, but next thing I knew, I was on the ground blinking up at him in a daze. That was when the pain caught up and the side of my face began throbbing, my cheekbone definitely having met some knuckles.
"Ye keep your hands offa her! You miserable excuse of an arse-lickin' little – " Bofur's insult was cut off with a grunt, Gavin turning the tables as the Dwarf became distracted. I looked over in time to see Gavin jolt up from the ground and thrust a shoulder into Bofur's stomach, heaving him to the floor again.
I grew enraged, pushing the pain in my face away as I scrambled to help my friend, just getting to my hands and knees when Jean tried to shove a boot in my ribs. I barely managed to hike myself up in time for his foot to fly under my stomach and crunch into the wood of the crate behind me, splinters breaking off every which way. The same crate holding Thror's Map.
Jean yanked his foot back and wound up taking the whole box with him. Unfortunately, this meant the paperweights holding the map down slid off and said map fluttered off onto the floor in between us. I glanced at it worriedly as Jean kicked out and sent the box flying right off his foot, barely missing me.
As the man stalked my way again, I frantically looked around for something to use as a weapon. The remains of the crate? My backpack? Shit…! There's nothing to use! Jean's foot slid on the paper when he stepped, causing him to stumble and glance downward, and I grabbed the first thing near me.
A stick that had been tossed from the fire, one end still smoldering.
By that point, Jean had righted himself, thankfully ignoring the map, but then he lunged at me. My agility was nothing compared to his, so my sad attempt to dodge was thwarted when he jumped forward and grabbed the crook of my neck. His fingers dug into the tender area and I lashed out with the stick, shoving the glowing red tip against his own neck.
Jean screamed, releasing his grip. The victory was short-lived, because no sooner had he let go than he landed a blow in my stomach, causing me to double over and drop my temporary weapon. I heard it clatter to the ground somewhere nearby in my haze of pain. I couldn't even react before he slid behind me and wrapped an arm around my throat, yanking me back upright as something cold was held against my neck. My hands flew up to grab the arm instinctively. Oh God. Holy shit. This… this was a new sort of terror.
"Enough! Dwarf!" Jean shouted. I was finally able to take in the scene on the opposite side of the campfire, Bofur having Gavin in a chokehold, trying to knock him out. My friend froze when he saw us. I'm sure my look of absolute fear didn't help any.
Immediately – of course – Bofur dropped his arm, took a step back, and slowly raised his hands. He was quite a sight; covered in soot, hat sitting so crookedly that it was almost backwards, and his lip was bloodied. I met his eyes then and knew we were having the same thought:
Fuck these guys.
Gavin fell forward onto his hands and knees, coughing violently for a long minute. Eventually, he stumbled to his feet and gave the Dwarf a wide berth. "Tell us…" He paused to take in another breath, before continuing, "Tell us where Thorin Oakenshield is."
There was a nerve-racking silence while Bofur stared the two Men down, a test of who was more intimidated. That was, until the arm around my neck tightened and the pressure from what must have been a blade increased.
"We haven't the slightest," Bofur quickly said with a glare. When Jean tensed up, ready to claim lies again, he added, "Him and the others ran off ages ago to find our missing ponies."
It was probably a good thing he didn't mention the Trolls. Should these two assholes find the Company in a vulnerable state (like, oh I don't know, stuffed in potato sacks), then it would only end badly. Or they would just stumble upon the Trolls themselves and be eaten. Clever Bofur.
"How convenient," Gavin spat, narrowing his already squinting eyes, super salty that he had been losing the fight. He turned to his brother, grumbling, "Missing ponies, my arse… This bounty better be worth it, I swear. I'll not be dealing with these dogs ever again once we're through."
I sucked in a breath through my nose, realization hitting like a ton of bricks. The bounty! That's what these douche lords were after? The bounty on Thorin?
Bofur straightened up, frowning. "Bounty? What are you two goin' on about?"
"Oh, you didn't know?" Jean asked, a little too amused now that he had the upper hand. "Lovely little bounty on Thorin Oakenshield's head – did he not tell you? I'm sure he's figured it out by now."
I scowled, digging my nails into the arm that held me. Jean twisted his torso quickly and jerked me around, snuffing out my brief attitude as he hissed, "That's enough of that, little witch."
"Just let the lass be. She don't know anything either," Bofur said as he put one foot forward cautiously. He stopped abruptly when Jean began to move to the side, towards the exit gap of the ruins.
Gavin, on the other hand, was trying to maneuver the opposite direction.
"What're you doing? I said she don't know anything!" Bofur continued, growing more concerned as to why they weren't letting me go. While this fact concerned me as well, I realized his focus was drawn our direction and not where it should have been.
My eyes widened when I saw Gavin duck down, grab a loose brick, and leap forward in one swift movement. I quickly dropped one hand from Jean's arm to point behind Bofur, flailing against my captor and kicking behind me to try and hit some shins, but it was too late.
Bofur slumped to the ground like a ragdoll. I could only stare in shock. Gavin let the brick fall out of his hand and land next to the Dwarf he'd just knocked out with it, brushing his hands off on his pants like it was no big deal. Like he hadn't just hit my friend over the head with a blow that had the potential to kill a Man.
I had never been so angry in my life.
The flailing began anew, rage flooding my body right up until the knife found its way back to my neck. I grit my teeth and seethed, knowing there was nothing I could do unless I wanted to die. Much to my embarrassment, my eyes began watering. I didn't want to cry in front of these… these pricks!
"I think we upset her, Jean," Gavin said mockingly, stepping around my unconscious friend. I glared at the blonde wanting nothing more than to kick his face in.
Jean gave a deep sigh, seeming annoyed, and responded with, "I don't give a damn. This took much longer than it should've."
"Don't get snippy with me now. Lord knows I've tried my best to catch her at a better time, but they don't let her out of their sight for more than a few minutes," Gavin complained like I wasn't even there.
"Yes, yes, I know," Jean interrupted. "It doesn't matter now – we've got her, so let's go."
I didn't know what to do. It was still dark, and I had no idea how long it would be before the sun rose and the Company came back. Or before Bofur woke up.
My very blood seemed to chill. Oh god, please let him wake up. He was so still. Was he breathing? I couldn't see from here, dammit! Why did they even need me? Why wouldn't they just let me –
Jean began dragging me away from the area when something on the floor caught my attention. On the opposite side of the fire, where I had my tussle with Jean, there was a tiny light. Smoke as well? I struggled to see out of the corner of my eye, through the blur of my tears, what it could be.
I recognized the stick with the smoldering tip I had used in my fight.
I also recognized the piece of paper it had landed on.
Jean gave me another strike to the head when I refused to move my feet, sending me into a half-conscious state as he tossed me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and it was in that moment that I wondered how things could possibly get any worse.
Of course, I should have known better by then.
Things could always get worse.
Please don't murder me too brutally. ;)
If it's any consolation, I already have the next chapter planned out better than I had this one, so it shouldn't take quite as long. That being said, thank you all again for your support and your feedback. It means the world to me.
Now to nurse the massive headache I got from writing all day. :D
Until next time~!
