*Tap dances onto the stage* Da-da-ta! Da-da-ta! *Opens arms*
I'm back!
Thank you for the reviews and thank you to the two haters that hit up my inbox with your lovely words of discouragement! *sweeping bow*
This story has been cross posted, here and on AO3, and it's lovely to see the support as well as the criticism. I've never done this and I'm just stumbling around the dark so any suggestions or advice is welcome. Whether that's in my inbox or in the form of reviews, I'm not picky. :)
That being said...on with the show!
*Grand sweeping bow as exit stage left*
Many in the hold had prepared for several weeks, gathering, crafting, or mining as much as they could. The night months were coming and as cold as it was, you were as good as dead if you were outside too long during the night months. It was in the midst of these preparations that they received another letter.
It was sent from the same dwarf in Dáin Ironfoot's keep in Wilderland. It was an official petition for aid signed by Balin, son of Fundin, to retake the Lonely Mountain. It specified that the expedition would happen in almost a year's time. It took a little over a month to pick up any correspondences left at the border town and it had to take a few weeks just to get to Northpoint from the Iron Hills. Another scroll from the Blue Mountains advising that Thorin Longbeard had departed some time ago in secret followed by several other dwarves, his sister-sons among them. An amusing remark was made about how Thorin's sister's fury should be able to be heard all over middle earth by now at her kin's disappearance.
But ultimately...there was less time than they thought.
There was a small council held in one of the chambers off of the great hall. The elders and wardens had gathered together along with seer Salma and a good number of their skilled warriors and crafters.
Elinor's father sat in a small chair placed closer to the great hearth, his black fur lined cape draped over his frail shoulders. Maps and various sheets of calculations spread across the great round table in the middle of the room. Various opinions were spouted here and there as to how much could be spared immediately, be it people, supplies, or armor.
Some were gathered about the table, looking over the maps and excited for the chance of seeing new places and a great battle. They were young northmen who had never left this region for the far south.
Elinor herself can only remember a few things about her time in warmer climates. The verdant grass. The soft caress of a warm spring breeze. The fragrant flowers near Erebor. Not to mention that the sun seemed to work better further south.
Others talked about battle strategy as the more seasoned warriors calculated possible placements of soldiers.
Agatha and Hadvar were present and seated near her, perusing a map of the known regions of Middle Earth. Most maps stopped as they reached Forodwaith but they had skilled enough cartographers who had gone on many expeditions to map out the far north.
Beirand sat at the side of the table closest to her father, flanked by Eurielle as they spoke in low tones. They seemed to be arguing back and forth, the voices becoming more heated as the exchange progressed. Nargu was visibly agitated with a belligerent look on his weathered features, his white knuckled fists thumping on the arms of his chair. Beirand himself looked frustrated as he sighed and ran a hand over his face while Eurielle crossed her arms. Her chin lifted imperiously as she looked down to the dwarf, her blue eyes frosty as she spoke to him quietly.
Whatever she said seemed to make her father relent with his temper and she saw a deep sorrow set in. His shoulders bowed and Elinor felt her jaw clench. She didn't care how difficult her father was being, they weren't going to upset him.
She gulped her wine down and made to stand when the small group turned toward those gathered.
"While the rest of the preparations are being finalized and our forces armed and armored, we will send a small delegation to Ered Luin. They will speak on our promise of aid to the king under the mountain".
There were hushed whispers amongst those in the chamber and Elinor felt her heartbeat start to thrum.
"To take back Erebor, the descendant of Glaurung must be destroyed. Smaug must be dealt with if the dwarves are to retake their home".
Eurielle paused as she considered her next words, "While we have made many great strides towards leaving the prejudices or our natures behind, the dwarves of Ered Luin and the elves will be more…..traditional. There will still be animosity. So whoever goes will need to be mindful of this".
Hadvar grumbled something and Agatha drank more of her mead, icy eyes roving about the room. The north men wouldn't volunteer first for this quest, none of them being familiar enough with the southern regions. There were a few dwarves, dwarrows and dams alike, excited at the prospect of meeting the king under the mountain. The few elves present weren't warriors so much as healers, cooks, or scholars. The elven warriors they had already said they would help with preparations for the night months.
No one said anything aloud, the hushed whispers continuing around the table. The elders sat observing those gathered and Elinor felt eyes on her once again. Her own emerald orbs roamed for the source until they settled on Salma, the seer's eyes intent upon her.
She saw her father's hand gripping his walking stick, his teeth worrying his lip before he made to stand from his seat. Elinor felt a shot of panic and prayed to Mahal and even Eru that her father would forgive her as she shot to her feet.
"I will go!", she started quickly before composing herself enough to quickly add, "With your blessing...I will go".
The room had gone quiet, Agatha staring at her like a second head had taken up a place on her shoulders. Hadvar just sat quietly, his face pulled into an incredulous scowl like he was trying to understand the words she just said.
Eurielle and Beirand, both flanking her father, had looks of pride blooming on their faces, as did seer Salma…..but her father….
His face was as black as a storm, his heavy brows settled low over his eyes. Elinor felt her own ire grow as she held his gaze, straightening to her full height even if it wasn't very tall.
"And if you don't have my blessing?", Nargu intoned.
Those gathered waited, more than a few wide eyes around the room. The tempers of dwarves were well known among the citizens of Hammerdeep.
Elinor lifted her chin and tried to tamp down her temper at his stubbornness, "Then I won't have it and still go".
Eurielle's brows went up at that and Salma cackled while murmurs broke out but still Elinor didn't break her gaze. Her father had an undefinable look on his face as he took her in but she felt movement to her side.
"I'll go", Agatha said, setting her tankard down and crossing her arms challengingly, her back straight and a hard look set upon her features.
"You'll have my axe as well, little sister", Hadvar gruffed and thunked his fist on the table.
To see them both, her dearest friends, supporting her and believing in the cause enough to follow her made her heart swell.
Nargu's lips thinned before he sighed in defeat, grumbling, "So be it".
Beirand turned to those gathered, "A few more will be needed for the trek, at least seven or eight total. This company will be small to hasten your arrival. Meet with me if you are up to it. Eat your supper and then pack for the journey. A letter of formal approval to lend aid has been made to give to King Thorin or Master Balin. Now get some rest!"
Everyone started to disperse and Elinor wandered over towards her father. His figure slouched in his chair as he stared into the fire.
Elinor took a deep, braced for a fight, "Father…".
"You've had so much pain and hardship in your life, lass….There's no' any guarantee that you will return from this journey", Nargu said lowly, his voice thick with emotion.
Elinor's lips parted and she went to her knees before him, taking one of his gnarled hands, "But if you go it is guaranteed that you won't, father. I know you feel you need to do this, for the Longbeards, for yourself, and….for mother", he stiffened at that, lips thinning but remained silent, "I will do you proud, father. I want that great snake dead as well".
"Oh my brave, strong willed child….", Nargu searched her eyes before he squeezed her hands and pulled a long scrap of fabric from under the furs draped over his legs. His hands shook as he presented the timeworn fabric to her, the cobalt blue of Durin's folk faded. The material had some scorch marks and was torn in places and she felt her heart kick.
A banner from Erebor.
"Do you swear to represent our people with honor, t' keep with the old ways and offer aid on our behalf t' the King under the mountain in my stead?"
"I swear".
He fixed a heavy gaze upon her, emotions warring over his face before he spoke, his voice hoarse.
"Do you swear t' do all in your power even unto death t' protect the line of Durin?"
Elinor's eyes roved over the form of her father and she nodded solemnly, "I swear, Adad".
Nargu's eyes were wet as he pulled her to him, jaw clamped firmly shut and engulfing her in his arms most likely for the last time.
A small group of seven departed from Hammerdeep the next day, their shaggy ponies and horses laden with supplies and gear. Elinor had taken one last long look at her home, the great fortress cut into the mountainside. The howling frigid air that cut over the fjord as the iced over water sung it's eerie song. The untrammeled landscape visible from the upper terraces. A veritable hive of people that was surrounded by a smattering of homes at the base or peppered into the mountain face. It was a majestic view that she was unlikely to see for quite a while.
The elders were outfitting a second group of volunteers to follow after them in a little over two month's time to wait for them along the ruins of Dale, Faylen among them. Followed by warriors a month after that to pool with the combined dwarven armies of the Blue Mountains and the Iron Hills. Everyone should be well settled by the time the army of Thorin and Dáin arrived.
Elinor took a deep breath before addressing the others, her back straight as she pulled down her face covering, "We are still here. Still home. I can't promise when or if anyone will return….so if you've second thoughts, now is the time to speak them".
Agatha and Hadvar sat atop their horses, quiet for but a moment before Agatha silently gave a nod of her head before they both turned towards the road. They were followed swiftly by the others, each uttering a muffled, "Mi'lady".
They were all swathed in white and grey furs, the skins tightly wrapped around their bodies to insulate them for the journey. Elinor's eyes watered from the chilly winds and her lungs burned as she breathed in the arctic air, her face covering doing its best to keep the better part of her face protected.
It had been a week into their journey through the frozen forests, being followed by a number of predators that prowled in the dimming light.
They had already lost one of their party, a younger warrior that was not as vigilant on his watch as he should have been. From Elinor's inspection of the tracks, an ice wolf had nabbed him and drug him away from their camp while they were resting. They found a heavily blood splattered trail in the snow. The amount led them to believe he would not return and found his remains later that day on their journey.
They had trekked through the wood and closer to the wastes, a desolate stretch of frozen land that took a day of steady riding to traverse.
Along with a lot of silent prayers.
Onward from there if they made it was Northpoint, the border town nestled in a break of the Grey Mountains. They would skirt the base of the mountains until they got to the great river, Anduin. Elinor had never seen the river but Eurielle assured them it should be calm enough to ride southward until the old ford near the High Pass. The pass was through the craggy hills north of Rivendell and they would travel the East-West road to Ered Luin.
She was looking forward to seeing more dwarves, their time in the Forodwaith leaving them outnumbered by men. Not that there weren't any dwarven babes birthed after settling, but her father had talked about the droves of dwarrow and dams that inhabited other dwarven settlements.
Elinor had long given up any romantic notions and had known she was being groomed for a position on the elder council for quite some time. But to see a large number of dwarves and how they interacted amongst each other would be interesting.
She sighed and shifted on her pony, feeling smothered in the heavy furs but wise enough to keep her mouth shut. The wind was harsh, the bite stinging her cheekbones as she squinted her dry eyes. The flesh of her right side pulling tight. After being wrapped so tightly for a couple of weeks, with a couple more weeks until the border town, a bath was definitely needed.
Hadvar had taken to leading his steed on foot, the movement keeping the blood flowing in their bodies and working to keep them warm. An older dwarrow and her father's closest friend, Rhosyn, followed him, his battle axe strapped to his back as they grumbled back and forth, both keeping an eye on her. Long ago he had been a part of the guard in Erebor before the attack. Elinor was pretty sure that he was going with them at her father's request. Agatha rode next to the other two of their envoy, a younger dam and a northman. Both had an apprenticeship with one of the best blacksmiths in residence at Hammerdeep. They both spoke amicably with Agatha while casting furtive glances at Hadvar, both slightly intimidated by the older warrior.
The dam, Dea Stronghammer, was of mixed descent as well. A dwarf and a wild northern she devil. She was of short and stout dwarven stature, with rounded fleshy hips and had a knack for metalwork. She had her mother's coloring, pale skin and even paler hair. A hair so blonde it appeared white. She had her father's warm amber eyes and seemed to lean more towards the dwarven aging scale. Her mother long since passed. Dea was just entering her seventy sixth year but was very capable, ready to brawl if needed but respectful.
The Northman, Ramund, was early in his years as well, maybe just past his twentieth and had travelled with them on their last trade caravan. A raven haired youth that had made several romantic overtures towards Elinor, none of which were reciprocated. He was a handsome lad, had often showed off his physique to her in the baths but…no.
She felt no attraction to him and he was also far too young for her. Not that she was old by any means, still in her early prime years for dam, but he was practically still an infant.
Elinor flexed her fingers on the reins and huffed, vigilant eyes scanning the landscape around them. The heavy snow capped trees were starting to dwindle, the brush thinning. Predators had desisted in stalking their party, the cover thinning and distance from their dens forcing them off. Other animals were becoming scarce as well. Another day and they would be at the edge of the wastes.
That thought left her on edge.
"Mistress!"
Elinor pulled them reins to steer her pony towards where the young dam stood. A few wisps of Dea's ashen hair had escaped her hood, dancing over her pinched brows as she sat atop her own shaggy pony next to a mutilated carcass.
The matted fur of a cow was near the base of a small cluster of trees, some branches snapped and twisted. Smears of dark blood dotted the rough bark about twenty or so feet up and dripped all the way down to the frost crawled base of the trunk.
Elinor dismounted and handed her reins to Dea, the rest of their company puttering in about them.
"Something we should worry over?", Hadvar gruffed through the thick cloth covering his mouth, his horse shifting nervously.
Elinor stood over the carcass, assessing the damage as the wind and snow fell over them. She looked up to the trees and around the carcass, eyeing the frozen intestines and innards on the ground.
Tissue's crushed in places. Must've fallen from quite a height. Gut sliced open.
Elinor crouched and swept some of the snow away to examine the ground as best she could.
Not much blood...animals got to it after death. Heart had already stopped pumping blood. Teeth marks indicate wolves more likely than not.
She stood and leaned over the cow.
Deep claw wounds. Spread between talons...frost drake. A wee one.
"Maybe...cow died when it fell from a great height. Drake must've dropped it. A youngster, probably, trying to get the cow back to its nest but it proved too heavy. About a day ago".
Agatha groaned and blew out a breath, fog puffing in front of her face as she turned her eyes to the sky.
Elinor mounted her pony, Dea pulling her own horse closer to her and Hadvar.
"Let's press on but watch the skies".
They stopped later in the day, making camp and eating some of the dried meats they had packed before huddling down by a fire. Hadvar had taken the watch and promised to wake them in a few hours and it had passed so quickly that Elinor felt like she'd not rested at all.
They walked their ponies until they reached the edge of the dwindling wood, the small saplings struggling to grow on their own in frigid earth. The sky was a picture of rolling clouds, a thousand greys from deep to pale hanging over a white wasteland as thick snow danced in the wind.
To look out on the brilliant white sent a shot of adrenaline through Elinor as the wind beat upon them. That familiar feeling of unease crept back in and her hand once again flexed on her bow for the hundredth time that day.
"What's in your mind, lass?"
Elinor's eyes drifted momentarily to the old dwarrow before sliding back to the open terrain. He had led his pony over to stand by her as the others tightly packed their gear, wandering off to take care of personal business before the long trek.
"It's too open and our party too small".
He clicked his tongue at her waving a rough hand dismissively, "You've made the journey a hundred times over by now. You're one of our best archers and a competent swordswoman. I have every confidence in ya, lass".
Elinor didn't comment and hesitated a moment before softly sharing another fear, "I haven't had any interaction with dwarves outside of our hold".
Rhosyn hummed but remained silent, his demeanor encouraging.
"If needed, I might need your guidance on certain things. Can I depend on you?"
"You will be fine. You're a clever lass. But if you need anything, I will help you", Rhosyn replied, "This…is a great thing you do. You bring honor to your family, mi'lady".
He reached out to squeeze her shoulder before he wandered back over to his pony. Elinor sighed quietly once more as she looked over the wastes, straightening and trudging back to the others.
They had been galloping for what felt like damn near half a day when Elinor heard the first craggy cries of the frost drake. True to her guess, it didn't sound very old at that. And that meant they had to worry about it's mother possibly lurking about.
Her heart was pounding in her chest as she braced her feet in the stirrups and tried to keep her bounce in the saddle to a minimum. She pulled her bow up and notched an arrow, ears straining to hear anything over the barren snow pelted plains.
"Watch the skies!"
In that wasteland of white there was no familiar sight, no sound other than the howling of the wind. Only the hearts beating in their chests stopped them from becoming as frozen as the landscape.
And that was when the great white winged monster swooped down through the low hanging clouds, on top of them before they saw it with the heavy snows. Their mounts started to cry in terror and it was difficult to direct them as the drake kept circling back to try and grab at them with its clawed feet. Even a young drake could prove dangerous as it was still a sizable foe.
Elinor tried to direct her mount with her knees, squeezing its flanks as she took aim, looking for its softer spots or the thin membranes of the drakes' wings. Agatha was urging Dea and Ramund forward at a frenzied pace while Hadvar and Rhosyn circled back to flank her.
As the drakeling flew overhead it banked hard into a turn and time slowed as she watched it's powerful jaws latch onto Ramund's horse. It had managed to sink it's razor like teeth into the horse's flank, also effectively biting into its rider's leg. Ramund let out an agonized scream and tried to stab at the drake as it lifted both him and his horse into the air, the horse flailing wildly.
Blood started sprinkling the wind and dusted the exposed parts of Elinor's face as she drew back her arm. She tracked the beast for but a moment, her hand at her cheek as she watched the monster try to make off with the fresh meat of a comrade.
Her fingers uncurled from her bowstring and then she let her arrow fly.
Thoughts? Constructive criticisms?
Any thoughts or comments are much appreciated!