A/N: Sorry for the long wait! I can write cute, fluffy things quite fast, but serious stuff like this takes me a bit longer to write, especially with everyone off in different parts of Arda. And when I end up rewriting one scene nearly 10 times because it just wasn't coming out right...Eheh. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter (even if you'll probably be left frustrated).
Chapter Sixteen
"They had the gall to raid a caravan that close to the city!?"
"They were strong, milord –This was no mindless rabble of orcs seeking a pleasure kill. This was a group o' humans riding wargs o' all things."
"How long did the fight last?"
"It couldn't have been more than fifteen minutes. They used Mother and Child rocks as cover; they had been on us in an instant. Three of our number were killed with five more injured. We managed to kill four of their numbers and took one of them prisoner."
"But that doesn't bring Baylee, Ori, and Tyko back. You said they were riding wargs? Not horses?"
"Yes, milord –wargs. How they tamed them, we'll never know. I only ever thought orcs were crazy enough t' ride them."
Will let out a shaky sigh and buried his face in his palms. The viciousness of wargs was well known to him; to know his little sister was now around a pack of them…
Across from him, his father hit the table with his fist. "We need t' go after them," Warren growled, "an' then teach those bastards tha' we don't tolerate raiders an' kidnappers!" There was a small chorus of agreeing cheers.
Bard raised his hand, bringing silence to the room. "I would agree to that if only we knew what direction they had gone in after the battle and if they were riding horses, not wargs. Wargs can travel farther and for longer distances than horses. For all we know, they could be leagues away by now."
"Th-There's another thing, milord," one of the soldiers piped up. He winced as a pale Richard tied a bandage around his upper arm. "All of the raiders…they were all women."
His brows furrowed. "All women? Are you sure of this?"
The soldier nodded. "I swear to Manwë, my lord. They may have fought like men, but they were most definitely women. I've never heard of anything of the sort."
"What did they look like?" someone asked. For a moment, Will almost thought it sounded like Dwalin, but he not said a word since the meeting started.
"I…I can't say for certain. They were blurs of red, black, and brown –an' their faces were covered," the soldier replied. "The one we captured, though, has a gem under her left eye. I think it could be a sign o' rank?"
A chair quietly scraped back behind Will and Nori slid out of his seat. Keeping his head ducked, he made his way through the crowd before leaving the inn. He had two places to go to –that seedy pub and the city's jail. The pub would probably give him more information, given the right methods of persuasion, so he headed there first.
"Nori, wait up."
Brows furrowing, he turned around to see Bofur sprinting to catch up with him. "You shouldn't be out here," he told him, speaking in Khuzdul. He didn't want to be understood by humans at the moment. "You should still be in the meetin'."
"You know somethin' about this, elsewise you wouldn't have left the inn in such a hurry." He stopped just a foot short of Nori, his eyes fixing on his. "Whatever you find out, I want t' find out, too."
For a moment, Nori was silent. He wouldn't admit it, but the lack of joy in Bofur's eyes was a bit unsettling to behold. He also looked older –much older than what he really was. Anger was not a good thing for such a normally joyful dwarrow.
"It probably won't be pretty," he told him at last.
"Probably cleaner 'n the skulls I'm goin' t' eventually bash in."
A slight grin came to Nori's lips and he nodded in understanding. "Come on, then –it's this way." Turning, he started to lead Bofur off. After news of the attack, the streets seemed to be left quite empty; many of the city's inhabitants were crammed into the Full Tankard to hear the details and find out just who had been taken prisoner.
'I should tell Dori,' thought Nori, 'We could use his strength…but going to Erebor will only delay us even more. Bard's right. They could be leagues away by now…'
"We'll get them back."
He glanced over at Bofur, finding his gaze fixed on the ground. "What?"
"We'll get them back," he said again. "And when we do, we'll show those raiders –women or not- that they can't go around kidnappin' people."
"We'll see about that," he told him. "When we actually get out on the road, you may calm down a bit." He knew, of course, that Bofur was angrier than normal because he was in love. Dwarves were intensely protective and jealous folk when it came to their lovers. He knew that Dwalin, too, was feeling this same rage, but it seemed he had a better control of it.
Bofur shook his head. "Hard tellin'," he mumbled. "I don't think I've ever felt this angry before."
"It's because you're in love," Nori told him, brow rising. He rounded a corner and stopped Bofur when he saw the pub. "Let me do the talking," he told him. "Shady folk like the ones in these pubs take a certain finesse to talk to."
His brow rose. "Right…so you're not goin' to just threaten t' cut off his family jewels if he doesn't give you information?"
"That may come up. Just keep quiet and keep your eye out for anyone who tries t' attack us, alright?" When Bofur nodded, he continued on into the pub. Giving the place a cursory look around, Nori found that the room was mostly empty; only the bartender and two men inhabited the place. Keeping the men in his peripheral, he casually approached the bar and climbed onto a stool. Bofur did the same.
"What'll it be?" the barman asked, not bothering to look up.
"Information."
His eyes flicked up to glance at Nori before he looked back at the mug he was cleaning. He did a double-take, cursing when he recognized him from the bar fight. "Oi! You've got a lot of nerve, showin' your ugly mug-" A choking sound left his throat as Nori suddenly gripped the neck of his tunic and yanked him down.
"I want information," Nori growled, "and you're going to give it to me if you know what's good for you." He smirked almost evilly as he pressed the point of a hidden dagger against his jugular. "Do you understand?"
The barman nodded slowly, a quiet whimper leaving his throat.
"Last week, there were two women here. They were robed in red and black and had gems on their left cheeks," Nori continued. "Where did they come from? Why were they here?"
"I only know th-that they came from the D-Dorwinion plains –near the Iron Hills!"
His eyes narrowed; every indication on the man's face said that he knew more than what he was willing to say. "That's not all you know." He pressed the dagger further into his flesh. "Tell me everything."
The barman looked between Nori and Bofur. "Are ya really goin' t' let him treat me like this, Master Dwarf?"
"He's going easy on you," Bofur replied, his tone dry. He glanced over his shoulder, watching as the two men started to stalk towards him and Nori. Climbing down from the stool, he moved to stand between them and the bar. One of them aimed a punch towards his head, but he easily ducked and slammed his fist into his gut. The man doubled over in pain. The second man lunged at Bofur, but he twisted to the side and jabbed his elbow forward into the man's chest.
Swallowing hard, the bartender watched Bofur for a moment before looking at Nori again. "A-alright! They wanted information on the next caravan that would be comin' t' the city, so me 'n a few others told 'em!"
"Anything else you care to divulge? Like who they work for?"
"I-I honestly don't know tha'!" he cried. "I just know tha' they wanted t' know about the caravans!"
Raising his brow, Nori looked him over one last time, his eyes catching a slight hint of gold just under the man's tunic. Moving the knife, he used its tip to tug the necklace up, finding that its pendant was one of the gems from the women's cheeks. He grabbed it and, with a flick of his wrist, snapped it from the man's neck and dropped him to the floor.
"H-hey! I got that fair and square!" the man argued. "You've got no-"
"I don't care whether or not I have a right to take it. Because o' you, my little brother and his best friend were kidnapped; I think this trinket is more than enough payment for the pain you've put us and them through." Turning around, he found Bofur wiping his hands on his coat, the two men lying unconscious at his feet. One of them had a broken nose. "We're done here," he told him, nodding towards the door.
As they left, Bofur glanced at him. "Have you ever heard o' a group of female raiders in Dorwinion?"
Nori shook his head. "No, but if they're like any other group of thieves, they have their own code o' honor. It'll be hard to get information out o' the one who was taken captive, but I'm sure we'll manage. Do you know where the jail is?"
Bofur raised his brow. "I tend t' stay away from those sorts of places, so no."
"Hm. Well, I would imagine it'd be towards the castle. Humans like to keep their prisoners close to their royalty so an eye can always be kept on them…" Tucking the gem into one of his many hidden pockets, he glanced up at the sky; it was starting to grow dark. "She's going to be reluctant to give us any information –especially if we're rough with her."
"Why don't we just ask someone where the jail is?" Bofur inquired, brow rising.
"Two dwarrows asking where the jail is seems a little suspicious, don't you think?"
"True…" He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed; his whole body was starting to ache from how tense he had been all day.
They wandered around the city for nearly half an hour, searching almost every street for any sign of the jail. It was a hard task, especially with the sky growing darker by the minute. At last, when the anger driving them was dying out and they were ready to give up, some hope came to them in a rather unexpected manner.
"I had a feeling that I would find you out here." They halted in their steps and slowly turned, finding Bard standing behind them. He had his arms crossed over his chest as he stared down at the two dwarves. "I suppose you came here to get information from our prisoner?" Even though he was only in his early thirties, he was daunting to look at.
"We already have information," Nori told him, "we just need a little more."
Bard's brow rose as he found himself intrigued. "And what sort of information did you get, Master Nori?" The slightest hint of a grin came to his face when he saw the matching looks of surprise on their faces. "Yes, I know both your names; I remember the two of you quite well from Thorin Oakenshield's company. Now, please, tell me what you have learned. The sooner I know about these women, the sooner I can send help."
For a moment, Nori was silent. He crossed his own arms as he gazed up at the human king; Bard was an honorable man and had treated them fairly when they had been a part of Thorin's Company. Despite this, he was reluctant to tell him the information they had gathered purely out of caution. Shifting his position, he glanced at Bofur, who hadn't taken his gaze off the king either.
"Two members o' the group were at a pub last week. That's where they got the details about the caravan. Their group comes from the Dorwinion plains," he finally explained. "That's all we were able to get out of the barkeeper. We were hoping that the prisoner would give us more details."
The king nodded. "I don't think it wise to let you two be the ones to do the questioning, though. I have people that are trained for that task."
"Do they know how to handle a woman?"
"If she rides wargs and raids caravans, then what difference does it make if she's man or woman?"
Nori raised his brow. "Good answer," he replied, "but will your people feel that same?"
"If they don't, I will see to it that they learn to." He glanced at the sky. "You two should return t' the Full Tankard. I will be there again before the night is out; hopefully with more knowledge about these raiders."
Bofur hooked his thumbs in his belt once more. "I hope y'know, milord, that we fully intend on goin' after Baylee 'n Ori whether you allow it or not," he told the king. "Sittin' on the wayside an' watchin' others do the work isn't our style."
At his words, Bard did smile. "Oh, I fully intend to use the wrath those women have stirred up in you and the others to our advantage," he told him. "I will see the two of you later." Without another word, he turned down an alleyway and disappeared into the shadows.
Narrowing his eyes, Nori tried his best to follow the king's movements, but they were hard to detect. "For a king," he started, "he certainly knows the way o' thinking of common folk."
"He wasn't always a king," Bofur told him, starting to head back towards the Full Tankard. "When we first saw him, he was just an ordinary bloke who most thought odd." He sighed, looking at the ground. "I hope he gets good information. I wanted t' leave as soon as we got the news..."
Nori set his hand on his shoulder. "You're not the only one."
A dull ache filled Baylee's skull and her shoulders. With a pained groan, she tried to move her arms out from behind her, but they were held back by thick, scratchy ropes. Opening her eyes in confusion, she was met by the dying, reddish light of sunset. Across from her was Ori, a gag in his mouth as he squirmed against his own set of ropes. The shoulder of his shirt and coat had been ripped open, allowing her to see bloodstained bandages wrapped around his skin. Next to him lay one of the soldiers, his body stripped of any armor and weapons, leaving him in just his padded under clothing. He was unconscious and dark, dried blood was smeared across his forehead.
"Wha…?" she mumbled. She was utterly confused, having not remembered what transpired earlier in the day. Opening and closing her eyes a few times, she found that this not some bizarre dream like she had hoped, but a cruel reality.
Lifting her head, she glanced over her shoulder only to let out a cry –a warg was lying no more than four feet from her. Whether it was because she was so close to it or her fear working against her, she thought that it looked far larger than any warg she had seen before.
Startled by her sudden noise, the warg lifted its head and snorted at her, its black eyes narrowed in discontent. It lurched to its feet and Baylee clenched her eyes shut, attempting to prepare for the worst -but nothing happened. Upon opening her eyes again, she found that the warg had wandered off towards a group of people sitting some yards away.
Biting her tongue, she started to wriggle her way towards Ori, who had ceased his struggles when he had heard her cry. She winced; the ground was hard and uneven, with rocks poking out of the ground. More than once, she was sure that she had managed to cut herself before she had reached the dwarf.
He asked her something, though his words were muffled by the gag in his mouth.
She quietly cursed. "I can't understand you," she whispered. For a moment, she was quiet before a thought occurred to her. "Grunt once for yes," she told him, "an' twice for no. Are ya alright?"
One grunt.
"Has Tyko woken up yet?"
Two grunts and Baylee cursed again before roughly getting pulled off of the ground. She looked up to see one of the veiled raiders holding her under the arm.
"Ah, glad are awake," said a female voice. "Hoped didn't kill when hit on head. Would be bad luck, yeah?"
"Bad luck for you, maybe," Baylee groaned. The woman's voice was loud, making her brain throb in pain.
The woman laughed –it was deep and throaty, a sound Baylee would have expected to come from a male. "Of course bad luck for me!" she replied. "Is bad luck to kill woman on battlefield, even if they fighting. Better capture them and make them slaves or have them join own side." She tilted her head, allowing the last bit of sunlight to fall on her eyes. Baylee could see that they were deep green in color with flecks of gold around her pupil; they were lined with a blood-red makeup that flicked out in a point that connected her upper eyelid to the end of her eyebrow.
The woman looked Baylee over, her brow rising under her veil. Seeing her ear cuff, she made quick work of removing it, earning a curse of protest from the prisoner. "Ugh. Ugly thing, yeah? Not suit such cute face."
"Put tha' back!" Baylee cried wriggling against her bonds.
"Were snack for something, yeah?" she mused, seeing the torn cartilage that the cuff had kept hidden. Tossing the jewelry over her shoulder, she shrugged. "Oh well. Mostly whole prisoners are good as whole prisoners, yeah?"
"What are ya goin' t' do with us?" Baylee demanded, though she sounded less than threatening –her voice wobbled, betraying her fear.
She cocked her head to the side as she set Baylee square on her feet. Circling around the young woman, she looked her over closely. "Not know yet. Man is handsome; may become concubine or may work in fields. Dwarf…sort of cute, but not become concubine. More likely work in fields or as slave. You though…" By the tone of her voice, Baylee knew she was wearing a grin under her veil. "Most definitely concubine."
Baylee swallowed hard. "I think I'd rather work in the fields," she murmured.
The woman laughed again. "No –are woman, yeah? Not getting men's work! Only men work in fields and mines while women fight, hunt, rule, and have babies. Sometimes, women work as servants –mostly concubines. Men do easy work, yeah?" She walked behind Baylee and untied her wrists, chuckling as the smaller woman grunted and stretched her arms. "Hm. Must be hungry, yeah? Will get food. Don't try to escape, yeah? Not want you to become snack for puppies." She motioned at the wargs lying around before walking off.
Almost instantly, Baylee knelt beside Ori and untied the gag from his mouth. As he sat up, making noises of disgust and trying to get the taste of cloth from his mouth, she also unbound his wrists before clutching him against her chest. He wrapped his arms around her as well, able to feel her shaking against him.
"I'm not leavin' your side," she murmured, face buried in his hair. "I'm goin' t' do all within my power t' keep you in my sight at all times."
He nodded slowly and closed his eyes. "We'll be fine," he quietly assured her. "We'll get out o' this somehow." His hand cupped the back of her head as she shifted and started to gently rock him.
"I know we will," she murmured. "I just hope we stay safe until then." Glancing over his shoulder, she looked at Tyko, who remained unconscious. "An' that Tyko wakes up soon…Gods, I hope he's alright…"
"He's a strong lad. He'll be alright."
It was then the woman returned, though she was followed by another masked person; from her words earlier, Baylee knew that this newcomer had to have been female as well. Pulling back from Ori, she pulled her knees to her chest as watched as the two raiders set down bowls of soup in front of them as well as two large, flat pieces of what Baylee and Ori assumed to be some sort of bread. It was smeared with some sort of soft cheese.
"Eat," ordered the first woman. She sat down, having her own bowl of soup and piece of bread. "And tell names, yeah? Too lazy to come up with names for you."
Ori watched her as she removed the veil from her face; he had been expecting a horribly deformed face hiding beneath it. Instead, the woman was quite normal looking with olive skin and plump, red lips. Her cheeks and jaw bore a few scars from battles past and there was a ruby pinned to her left nostril. On her left check, just below the eye, was a small emerald.
"Think me pretty, dwarf?" she smirked. When his cheeks turned dark red and he looked down into his soup, she laughed. "Not for you. Have nice harem waiting back home."
"I already have a lover," Ori muttered, "and he's going to make sure you pay for kidnappin' us."
Her brow rose. "Not think it wise to threaten those who are keeping you alive, yeah? Forget about lover. He won't find you. Only nomadi iz kámpou can find other nomadi iz kámpou." She grinned broadly before taking a sip of her soup. Her eyes glanced away from the two conscious prisoners, watching as the other woman tended to Tyko. Calling out to her, she spoke in their native tongue before laughing and drinking more soup.
The other woman did not seem to find her humor as she gently lifted Tyko up so that he rested against her chest. Pulling a metal flask from her side, she uncorked it and, forcing his mouth open, poured a bit into his mouth. To ensure that he swallowed the medicine, she plugged his nose. After a few seconds, he swallowed the liquid and coughed, his eyes finally opening.
Baylee let out a sigh of relief, having been paying more attention to them than to her food. She flinched when the first woman leaned forward and smacked her leg.
"Eat," she ordered again, leaning back. "Friend will be fine. Now tell names, yeah?" She stared at them as she ate more of her bread. "If don't, will have puppies chase you. Not want that, am sure."
Lifting her bowl, Baylee sniffed the soup only to let out a small cough; it had the powerfully strong smellof mint. "My name is Baylee," she told the woman before daring to take a sip of the soup. Just as she thought, it was overwhelmingly minty, though she was able to detect other flavors like ginger and some sort of meat. Was it beef? No; the flavor was a bit gamier than that. It could have been mutton…
"You?" the woman demanded, looking at Ori.
He glanced up at her. "Ori," he replied, his voice a bit gruff. "And he's-" he pointed at Tyko, "-Tyko."
Nodding in understanding, she patted her chest. "Am Malasintha and she Gelvira," she told them, nodding at the healer. "Are seven others that will meet soon." She grinned again. "Some not as nice as us, yeah? Don't be rude; some won't…eh…pause to cut out tongue if speak out. Be good prisoners, yeah?" One of the wargs trotted over, causing the two prisoners to recoil in fear, though Malasintha merely smiled and scratched the beast behind the ears as it lay down next to her. She started to coo to it in her native tongue.
"If these are puppies," Ori mumbled to Baylee, "then I'm terrified t' think of how big the adults are."
"Hopefully 'puppy' is just an affectionate name she used," she replied quietly. Taking a bite of the bread, she found it to be much more to her liking. The bread itself was rather plain tasting, but the cheese covering it had a mild tang and the flavor of garlic. She ripped a piece of it off and dipped it into the soup, seeing if that would help combat some of the mint flavor. To her luck, it did.
He nodded in agreement, also eating some of his bread. "I'm hopin'…"
Lovisa quietly sighed, her face buried in her hands. She, like many others who still crowed the Full Tankard's common room, was waiting for the return of Bard. Unlike most, though, she was twitchy. She did not want to be patient and see what the king's decision was –no. She wanted to take the fastest horse and ride back to the scene of the attack and chase after those damned raiders. They already had almost a full day's ride ahead of any help that could be sent –why waste more time?
She finally looked up when someone set a mug before her. Her brows furrowed in confusion before she watched a black-and-white haired dwarf climb onto a stool across from her. She recognized him from earlier; he had been one of the fellows who had raced to Bard with the news. Now he was scooting a steaming mug of tea towards her, a concerned look on his features.
"Drink," he told her, though she noticed it took him some effort. She wondered if it had to do with the axe sticking out of his skull.
Sitting up and sighing, she touched her fingertips to her chin, the Iglishmêk equivalent of 'thank-you', before taking the mug. She deeply inhaled its steam, both smelling and tasting ginger and lemon. Her brow rose slightly; this was her favorite tea. It was an odd coincidence.
Bifur quietly sighed. He had tried to get Bofur, Dwalin, and Nori to drink some tea –alcohol would not be a good thing to have angry dwarrows drinking- but they refused the warm drinks and were, instead, huddled in the corner. He did manage, however, to get Will to drink some tea, though it took some persuasion from both him and Adela. He didn't dare try to give tea to Warren, though; he was outside, beating some metal to relieve his anger.
Through all his attempts to keep everyone calm and levelheaded, though, he had noticed that this one woman had seemed to be left out of almost everything. Warren and Will had spoken with her briefly, though he wasn't sure if they listened to anything she had told them, because they had hurried off with Richard. When Bard had come to the inn and throughout the meeting, she sat at the corner of the long table, saying nothing, but watching everything. It did not surprise him –she had the looks and garb of a ranger. He knew she had fought against the raiders because her quiver, still strapped to her back, was nearly empty and there was a bandage wrapped around her upper arm. She would have been the perfect picture of calm if she didn't jump every time someone walked by her or if her eyes had not been full of such anger.
He had never seen a woman so angry as her.
"Zûr túb Baylee?" he quietly asked.
Lovisa glanced up at him, almost startled by his words. Her hands left the sides of the warm mug before she paused. Biting her lower lip, she hesitantly signed 'Know Baylee?' to him.
He nodded, a bit of a smile coming to his lips as he also started to sign. 'She good friend. Helped cousin, me many times last few months.'
'Are Bifur then? Or Bofur?'
'Bifur.'
She nodded her understanding, smiling slightly, though it didn't reach her eyes. 'Baylee speak of you. Ori, too. Wish could have met with better tidings.' Lifting her mug, she took a small sip from the hot liquid. Extra lemon…He must have told Galiene who the tea was for, otherwise this would have been too strange a coincidence.
'Same. Name is Lovisa, right?'
'Yes.'
'Surprised know Iglishmêk.'
'Father teach Iglishmêk when child. Got sick; lost voice.'
Taking a drink from his tea, he nodded, finding himself a bit surprised. Dwarves were hardy folk and didn't get sick often –even half dwarves rarely got sick- so to know she lost her voice to an illness…Well, it was odd to him. 'Must be one who taught Will, Baylee. They quite good.'
Again, she smiled. 'Was their nurse.' Sighing, she glanced across the room, trying to find Will, but seeing no sight of him. Rubbing her face, she mentally cursed the raiders who took Baylee and Ori.
"Ashurak zân nât ghelekhur," Bifur quietly assured her.
Lovisa was about to sign a reply to him when the door to the inn opened up again. Looking over her shoulder, she watched as Bard hurried in. Almost instantly, people flocked towards him, bombarding him with questions. Despite his pleading for silence, it did not come. Growing frustrated, he called out:
"SILENCE!"
The people fell quiet, though there was still some murmuring going on.
"The raiders who have taken Tyko, Ori, and Baylee are a group of women who call themselves the Nomads of the Plains," he explained. "They travel across the Rhûnic plains, acting as pirates do in the sea." He rubbed his temple. "They were, indeed, riding wargs and…yes, it was an all-female group. The prisoner mentioned that they do have a base of sorts, but no one will be able to find it."
"Then torture her until she agrees t' lead us here!" one of Tyko's brothers shouted.
Bard gave him a sharp look, his eyes narrowed. "Torture will only gain false truths," he scolded. "We have gotten all that we can out of her; you have no need to get worked up."
"But if no one can find this base, then how are we goin' t' get them back?" a woman demanded. "Sendin' an army after 'em is goin' t' prove folly-"
"I am not sending an army," Bard snapped. His patience had long been worn away, but he did his best to remain calm. "I know exactly who I am sendin' for this mission. Now if you'll excuse me!" He started to wade through the crowd, heading towards Lovisa. When he approached her, she looked up in confusion; he didn't understand Iglishmêk and knew full well that she couldn't speak. Despite this, he pulled out a chair and sat down beside her.
Respectfully, she bowed her head and set her hand over her heart.
Bard shook his head, holding up his hand. "No formalities right now, Lovisa," he told her. "Your skills as a huntress are well known to those who live in Esgaroth and Dale, so I am asking you to put those skills to use to find those three who were taken."
She nodded solemnly.
"I don't, of course, expect you to do this by yourself." His eyes glanced over at Bifur. "Ori's brother and Bifur's cousin are feeling particularly vengeful. Will, too, would be a good idea."
"Ya'Dwalin ûn!" Bifur added, patting himself on the chest. "Ori ûn Baylee ubahum!"
Though he didn't understand most of Bifur's words, Bard did understand what he had meant. "Yes, Bifur, you two would surely go with," he told him. "No doubt Dwalin's fighting skills will prove to be of use, as will your own set of hunting skills."
Lovisa glanced at Bifur; he didn't look like much of a hunter…Then again, the axe in his head proved that he had some skill in combat, so perhaps he was a hunter of orcs? Looking back at Bard, she gave him a polite nod before taking a long drink from her tea and rising to her feet. She pointed to Bifur and motioned for him to follow her. Making her way through the crowd, she went over to the table where Dwalin, Nori, and Bofur were sitting. The three males looked up at her curiously as they saw her approach –even more so when they saw Bifur behind her.
'Going after Ori, Baylee,' she signed to them. 'Need help. Know are good friends to both. Find Will, weapons. Meet in stables. Leave in half-hour.' Without another sign, she left the table.
"Did anyone else see wha' I just saw?" Dwalin demanded, his brows furrowed.
"A female half-dwarf givin' us orders to meet her in the stables in half an hour with weapons so we can go after Ori and Baylee?" Bofur asked. Dwalin nodded. "Aye, I did."
Nori cocked his brow. "Then what are we waiting for?" He shoved his chair back with a loud scraping noise and, with Dwalin hurrying after him, started up the stairs to his room.
Bifur pulled Bofur to his feet, signing for him to get his boar spear from the toyshop while he went in search of Will. He went down the hallway that led into the private quarters and knocked on the door only for it to be answered by Adela. Her eyes were red and puffy; she had been crying. Regardless, she smiled slightly when she saw the dwarf and stepped aside to let him in.
"He's in Baylee's room," she told him, leading him down another, shorter hallway. She lightly knocked on the door before pushing it open and poking her head inside. "Will? Bifur's here."
"Let him in." He could just barely hear Will's voice.
Once more, Adela stepped aside, letting Bifur pass by her. The room, to his surprise, was brightly lit by a fire in the hearth and candles sitting on the various tables. Will, he found, was sitting on Baylee's bed, his legs crossed as he looked down at something in his hands. Drawing closer to the young man, he could see that Will was holding what looked like a burnt piece of tapestry.
"Did Bard come back?" he quietly asked, his eyes glancing up at the dwarf, who nodded. "What did he say?"
'Sending Lovisa, us after Baylee, Ori, Tyko,' he signed. 'Meet Lovisa in half hour in stables.'
His brows furrowed. "Wait, Lovisa is in charge?" he asked. Bifur nodded once more, bringing a bit of a grin to the lad's face. "This should be interesting…"
'Why?'
He shook his head. "It just is." Sliding off of the bed, he tucked the piece of fabric into his pocket and moved to leave the room. "Stables in half an hour?" he asked.
"A-Aye."
"See you there."
Lovisa sighed as she tightened the saddle on a black stallion. In the stalls on either side of her, Warren and Peter were readying horses for Will and the dwarves, though they weren't sure where to put the stirrups just yet. Normally, she would have preferred to use ponies, but speed was the key if they were going to catch up to the raiding party. The two men –with some help from Bard- had made sure to find horses that had seen battle so that they wouldn't be too startled in case they ended up in a fighting situation, though one of the dwarves would have to end up riding Baylee's mare.
Bard came into the stables once more; he looked exhausted. Under one of his arms, he held a small barrel while the other carried seven water skins, each one full. Setting the barrel on one of the railings, he let out a small sigh. "This was all the way bread I could find," he told them. "One of my men is bringing in a barrel of hardtack and some meats."
"I'm glad ya thought t' hoard some away for times o' need," Warren replied as he put the saddle on Baylee's mare. "The old Master wouldn't have thought o' that."
"Now's not the time t' think of times past. Where is your son? And the dwarves, for that matter?"
"They'll be here," Peter told him. He was carrying a saddle over to a painted gelding. "They're not going t' shirk away from this sort o' mission."
Bard nodded, grabbing a nearby hoof-cleaning tool and using it to pry open the barrel. Once opened, he took it over to where the heap of saddlebags lay and started to distribute the bread as evenly as possible into each bag. As he did so, Lovisa watched him; she had known Bard in his youth, but not as well as she knew the Braddock family. It was almost odd to her, to see him here as a king. But she had heard only good things of his rule so far.
Another man entered the tables; he carried two small barrels and a bundle of arrows as well. He set the barrels down beside the king before handing the arrows to Lovisa, who nodded her thanks and undid the buckles to her quiver's harness.
"Sawyer, run to the eastern gate and tell them to open," Bard instructed the young man. "And then go to my cook; if she's asleep, wake her and tell her to give you a good meal and have some bread and cheese ready for when I return."
The lad nodded before hurrying out of the stables. His leaving brought the arrivals of Will and the dwarves. All of the males had shed their comfortable town clothes in favor for sturdier traveling garb. Their weapons they had strapped to their backs or ready in their hands. They were an odd bunch to look at: Will had his chain flail as well as his helmet and cloak; Dwalin his axes strapped to his back, war hammer resting in his hands, and knuckledusters; Bifur his boar spear and Bofur his mattock; and Nori seemed to have only two knives, though everyone knew he had at least five more hidden somewhere on his person.
"Where at the ponies?" Dwalin demanded, his hands resting on the handle of his hammer.
"You won't be riding ponies," Warren told him. "An' even if there were enough ponies in Dale for all o' you, you'd still be ridin' horses. Ponies would be too slow."
Bofur frowned. "We're too short for horses, though."
"You'll get help up," Bard told him as he stood. With the contents of all three barrels evenly distributed between the saddlebags, he started to carry them over to the various horses. Warren and Peter copied his actions while Lovisa went over to the group.
'Leave through east gate,' she signed to them. 'Cross bridge. Ride south to spot of attack. Follow warg tracks east. Stop only to let horses rest. Understand?'
The males nodded. "How many miles do you think they've got on us?" Nori asked her.
She gave him a grave look. 'Leagues. Wargs fast. Don't need to stop as often as horses –but stop at night. Gives advantage. Will be sleeping by now. Have chance to gain on them. Saddle up.'
Will nodded, moving towards his horse. Warren was there, reins in hand, waiting for him. Like Bard, he looked exhausted and worried, but he smiled when Will took the reins from him.
Giving his father a tight hug, Will managed a reassuring smile. "I swear I'll bring her home –even if I have t' carry her all the way back, I'll bring her home."
"I know ya will, son," he murmured, giving Will an extra squeeze. "I know ya will."
Baylee let out a quiet whimper as her hair was roughly tugged, but she resisted the urge to pull away. Instead, she clenched her eyes shut and gripped her arms tighter, enduring the pain. Like most of the other women, she was currently naked and standing in ankle-deep water so that they could bathe. Behind her stood a woman named Ankita, who was using her hands to comb through the unruly locks, a frown on her face.
After many minutes of trying to untangle the knots, she called out to her companions who were bathing some yards away. A different woman, who was called Prema, waded over, her brow raised. The two quietly discussed what to do about Baylee's hair when a third woman –Divya- came over. This woman seemed to be the second in command of the raiders, for almost everyone listened to her when she gave orders. The only one who didn't listen to her was Vlasta.
She spoke with the other women for a moment before ushering them away. Taking Baylee's hair into her hands, Divya started the process of combing through it only to find that it was, indeed, a horrible mess. Ankita had managed to make some leeway, but it wasn't much. She looked over her shoulder and, with a voice that made Baylee flinch, gave an order to Prema.
"What're ya goin' t' do?" Baylee hesitantly asked.
"Need trim."
Her eyes widened in horror and she gripped her hair. "N-no! Ya can't cut it; I've been growin' it for eight years!"
Divya's brow rose and an amused grin came to her lips. "Don't worry," she told her, "will look better with short hair, yeah? Look more desirable." She lifted her hand, easily catching a sheathed knife as it was tossed to her. "Now let go. Don't want to cut your hands, yeah?"
Biting her lower lip, Baylee softly whimpered as Divya gently pried her fingers away from her hair. "P-please, no…"
Gathering her hair up, Divya ignored her words. She brought the knife through the locks, leaving Baylee's hair just above shoulder length. Tossing the bundle of hair downstream, she sheathed the knife and threw it back onto shore. Then she easily plucked Baylee up and set her over her shoulder, carrying her towards the other women in the deeper water.
"I-I can walk, you know!" Baylee yelped, squirming. Even though they were all women, she was not comfortable at all with being hauled around while naked. She could only hope that Zuza and Heneh, the two women left in charge of Tyko and Ori, were treating them with more dignity. "My legs are unhurt!"
"Faster to carry, yeah?" Divya told. With a shrug, she dropped her into the deeper water before moving to start washing herself.
Pushing herself upright, Baylee coughed up the water she had accidentally inhaled. Malasintha came over, helping to pull her to her feet. With her newly shortened hair hanging in her face and her body shaking from the cold water, Baylee looked very much like a drowned rat. Shaking her head, Malasintha made a 'tut-tut' noise and proceeded to help scrub her arms and legs to get her out of the water sooner. Baylee tried to shove her away, understandably not wanting someone else touching her at the moment.
"I can wash myself," she muttered, pulling her arm away.
"Am trying to help, yeah?" Malasintha told her. "Are shivering from cold. Let me help and can go sit by fire sooner, yeah?"
Knowing she had no other choice, Baylee reluctantly held out her arm while she tried to scrub the smell of warg off of her skin with her other hand. Malasintha, however, soon took over the entire job of cleaning her, her hands making quick work of scrubbing a bar of strange-scented soap over her shoulders. Baylee tried her best to wash on her own, but Malasintha kept pushing her hands away.
"How get scars?" the raider inquired as she spun Baylee around. "Not normal scars for gentle woman to have." She coated her back with the soap and started to use her knuckles to massage whatever dirt and grime there was away.
"G-goblin attack," she answered. "B-Battle of F-five Armies."
"Fought in that?" She stared at Baylee, a bit shocked. "Am surprised. Heard of it; many, many dwarves from Iron Hills went to fight there, yeah? Not many return."
She nodded slowly. "Most stayed to help reestablish Erebor…" She didn't want to admit it, but Malasintha's hands felt nice on her shoulders. The muscles there were knotted and tense after her arms had spent so long tied up behind her back.
"Ah. Dragon dead, then?"
"He was slain before the war."
Malasintha nodded in understanding as she let her hands slide down Baylee's back, her fingers still working to scrub away whatever filth was on her skin. "Were only woman fighting, yeah?"
"No. My mother and aunt-" She suddenly let out a surprised yelp when she felt Malasintha's hand cup her bottom and give it a squeeze. She jumped forward, any shyness she had felt turning to anger. "Don't touch me like tha'!" she snapped, her arms crossing over her chest.
There was an innocent smile on Malasintha's lips as she held up her hands in defense. "Could not help. Have nice arse, yeah? Hips, too! Would be good for bearing children."
Keeping her chest covered, Baylee pointed a scolding finger at the taller woman. "Ya can, too, help it! If you touch me like tha' again, I will hit you!" she threatened.
A cry of pain left her mouth as someone suddenly grabbed her hair and yanked her backwards. As she stumbled back, the same person roughly shoved her into the water, keeping her pinned there for many seconds. Cursing, Malasintha dashed forward, shoving the woman away from Baylee and helping drag her out of the water.
As she was pulled, gasping, out of the water, Baylee saw the woman named Brina glaring down at her. "You are prisoner!" she snarled, eyes narrowed. "You listen to us and do as told. Can be killed for threatening us! Should be killed for threatening us, ungrateful rat!"
Malasintha growled at her, spitting words in their tongue as she lifted the dazed Baylee up. Brina was about to swing her fist at Malasintha, but her hand never reached its target. Instead, there was a blur of pale white and blood- red as Vlasta lunged forward, grabbing Brina's wrist and twisting her arm behind her back, earning a howl of pain from the smaller woman.
Half in the water, half out, and her vision spinning, Baylee watched as the redhead –who hadn't even shown even the slightest interest in the prisoners until now- quietly snarled into Brina's ear. Of course, Brina argued against her and Vlasta grabbed a handful of her hair, her grip tight enough to earn curses of pain from the brunette. What threats were given, she would never know, but Brina's tense form went limp and Vlasta shoved her forward into the water.
Baylee tried to get to her feet as Vlasta walked towards her, the look on her face enough to scare paint from a wall. Instead, she stumbled and Malasintha had to catch her once more. Vlasta moved behind the two and, with a surprising amount of gentleness, tilted Baylee's head forward, her fingers brushing the hair aside.
"Hit your head," she told Baylee. "And you're bleeding." Leaning down –way down, for she was almost as tall as Warren or Richard- she scooped Baylee up in her arms and started to carry her off.
"I-I can walk…" she mumbled, her eyes clenched shut. She hadn't even realized she had hit her head until Vlasta had told her; the shock of being nearly drowned was wearing off and the pain starting to ebb its way into her consciousness.
"Probably can, but I'm not going to let you, eh? May fall again." Baylee was surprised that she spoke better Westron than the other women; then again, she was their leader. It was to be expected.
Vlasta carried Baylee towards the ring of tents that encircled the fire. Because of the fire's light, the two women could see the forms of Tyko, Ori, Zuza, and Heneh in one of the tents; it almost looked like one of the men was being restrained by a woman while the other washed his face.
Passing by the tent, Baylee frowned. "Where are you takin' me?" she dared to ask. All of her clothing was in the tent with Tyko and Ori; it was the prisoner's tent. "All my clothes are-"
"Clothes aren't as important as your wound, eh? Treat that first, then we'll find clothes for you."
Swallowing hard, Baylee shut her mouth. She knew full well that Vlasta was not a woman to talk back to; she may get away with it around Malasintha and Gelvira, but Vlasta was an imposing figure and, when she wasn't smiling, was rather fearsome to look upon. It didn't help that her body bore more scars than Baylee could count, including what looked to be bite marks over the right side of her face.
And yet…there was a strange sense of majesty about this woman. She carried herself as any leader should –with pride and confidence. Baylee had noticed that with a single look, she could stop the other women from fighting or keep them at bay when their teasing of one another was going to turn semi-violent. Even the wargs listened to her: One had tried to steal a bowl of stew from Ankita two hours ago and, with a single snarl, Vlasta sent the warg scampering off, its tail between its legs.
Vlasta carried her into the largest tent –her own tent- and Baylee instantly recoiled against her chest as Vlasta's warg lifted its great head, looking at them tiredly. It yawned, its mouth opening wide enough to easily fit the heads of two men in it with room to spare, before laying its head back down and sighing. Vlasta set Baylee down –much to her horror- against the creature before moving to rummage around in her bag.
The warg grunted and rolled onto its side, earning a small squeak from the human as she tumbled backwards against its chest. It snorted, but ignored her for the most part. Vlasta glanced over at her as she pulled out a small flask that she carried over to Baylee. Kneeling before her, she tilted Baylee's head forward again, exposing the back of her neck. She quietly hissed in pain as Vlasta moved her wet hair aside and opened the flask, pouring a bit of liquid on the wound. It foamed up as soon as it touched the open flesh, earning a curse of pain from Baylee; it stung something awful.
"There," Vlasta murmured, dabbing the wound with a clean cloth. Closing the flask, she tossed it over to her bag before leaning over and grabbing a fur cape. This she wrapped snugly around Baylee's small form before getting to her feet and starting to dress herself. "It'll still hurt for day or two, but at least it'll be clean, eh?"
"I-if you say so," Baylee murmured, clutching the cape to her chest. She was doing her best to keep her teeth from chattering as she shivered.
Vlasta glanced over at her, her brow raised. Tugging some trousers on, she sighed and ran a hand through her blood-red hair. "Brina shouldn't bother again. If she does, hit her back, eh?" she told Baylee before grabbing a shirt and pulling it over her head.
"A-alright," she murmured. 'I have the feeling she'll just hit me back, twice as hard,' she thought. She flinched as a wad of cloth hit her in the face; she hadn't heard Vlasta's order to catch it thanks to her thoughts.
"Told you to catch, eh?" Vlasta said, her brow rising. "Should learn to listen. It's a useful skill, eh? Now put tunic on."
The cloak falling off of her shoulders, Baylee held up the garment. It was far too big for her –but it was clean and smelled of lavender. Not having the strength to argue, she pulled it on while doing her best to not disturb the sleeping warg.
'At least these wargs seem more tame than the Gundabad wargs…' she thought, trying to find her hands through the sleeves. As she got dressed, she noticed that Vlasta was watching her, her eyes narrowed curiously. Cheeks growing hot, Baylee found herself snapping, "Could ya not stare? I know; I'm tiny an' I need t' eat more."
Her tone earned a chuckle from the larger woman. "Wasn't thinking that," she mused. "More along lines of how…eh…how would I say it…" She was silent for a moment. "Ah. You don't look like you came from Esgaroth, eh?"
Frowning, Baylee glanced up at her while pushing the tunic down to her knees. "How do ya mean?"
Vlasta walked over, toying with Baylee's hair. "The people of Esgaroth have dark hair, eh? They have black or auburn or even umber hair." She started to absentmindedly braid a few of the locks. "Yours is light. Yours…yours is ashy, eh? Never seen this light of hair amongst Esgaroth people."
"How would you know?" she retorted, watching the woman cautiously.
"Have visited Esgaroth many times. You don't look like one of them."
"My mother is from Rohan."
"Hm. So that's where get eyes, eh? Not explain hair, though."
"My father has the same hair…" She turned her face away from the woman, unconsciously starting to fiddle with a lock of her hair. It was still long enough for her to get it into her mouth. 'Why is she so interested in my hair?' she thought. 'And why am I even answering her questions…?' There was a yelp from across the camp and she jumped, thinking it was Ori.
Vlasta set a hand on her shoulder. "Calm down," she told her, her voice oddly soothing. "Was just Ermtrud, eh? She's clumsy." She tugged the lock of hair out of Baylee's mouth. "Don't chew on your hair. So, father is one with ashy hair. Where is he from, eh?"
Baylee cocked her brow. "Lake Town…?" As far as she was aware, her father had been born and raised in the city; everyone certainly knew him well enough that it seemed that way. She had never met her grandparents on his side, however, so he could have been from one of the villages nearer to the mountains.
Shaking her head, Vlasta finished off a fourth braid. "Can't be from this side of Misty Mountains unless have come from Gondor," she told her, her voice firm.
"Why are ya so interested in my lineage?" Baylee suddenly demanded. "I'm from Lake Town an' I moved t' Dale after Smaug was killed. Isn't tha' enough? I'm goin' t' be a slave anyway, so it's not like any o' this information matters!"
Vlasta stepped back, amused by her outburst. "It is always good to know ones lineage –especially when one is prisoner. What if you were princess, eh?" She ruffled Baylee's hair. "Could demand pretty ransom for you then!"
"I'm an inn maiden, not a princess."
"Inn maidens wield spears now, eh?"
Baylee glared at her. "I was taught how to fight just in case I ended up in this sort o' situation." She yelped as Vlasta crouched down, her arms sliding under her legs and around her back before lifting her up.
"Fought well, but not well enough. Maybe we could make rider out of you, eh?" A smirk came to her lips as she carried Baylee off. "What inn were you maiden at?"
"Why does it matter?"
"May have stayed once at your inn."
Shaking her head, Baylee crossed her arms. "Not at our inn. I would have remembered ya if ya had."
Vlasta chuckled. "Inns serve many people, eh? Wouldn't remember one person out of hundreds."
"I have a good memory," she dryly retorted. She was carried into the prisoner's tent where Tyko and Ori were eating from bowls of stew. Well, Tyko was eating; Ori had his bowl sitting next to him while his face was buried in his knees. She frowned, crawling over to Ori once she had been set down. "Ori? Ori, what's wrong?" His shoulders were shaking as he quietly sobbed.
Tyko glanced between the two of them and Vlasta's retreating back. "Zuza and Heneh…they shaved his beard," he quietly told her. Baylee looked at him, her eyes wide in horror; she could see that the skin around one of his eyes was dark and bruised –one of the women had punched him. "Shaved mine off, too."
Biting her tongue, she set her hand on Ori's shoulder. "Ori, let me see," she quietly told him.
"No," he muttered, shaking his head. "It's hideous! Even a baby dwarrow has more o' a beard than me now! I'm not a dwarrow anymore, I'm just a…a hairless rat!"
She stroked his hair, lightly pulling him against her. "You're not a hairless rat, Ori. Beard or no beard, you're still a dwarf!"
Ori clung onto her, burying his face in the crook of her neck. "I'm no one without my beard. Zuza told us tha' when we start t' get stubble, it'll just be shaved off all over again!" he sobbed.
Glancing up at Tyko, Baylee watched as he nodded slowly with a sigh. "It'll grow back," she cooed to him. "We'll get out o' this mess an' it'll grow back. Just like how my hair will grow back. An' I bet it'll be-"
He pulled back slightly, looking up at her in confusion. His face was as smooth as the surface of an apple. "They cut your hair, too?" he frowned.
She nodded and held up a lock of it. "All because Divya didn't want t' comb through it all."
"But it was so long…" His jaw quivered as he reached up, his fingers combing through the hair. "Are they tryin' to remove our identities?"
Tyko sighed and patted him on the back. "We're prisoners –soon to be slaves. We don't have identities anymore."
It was nearly dawn when Lovisa brought the group to a halt. They had ridden through the night, following the traces of warg tracks that she could find. It was a hard task even with a full moon to light the way; despite their large size, wargs did not leave much of a print. For the most part, her only clue as to which direction the raiders had gone in was the bent stalks of grass.
But now, in the light of the dawning sun, she had found solid evidence that they were headed in the right direction. A sigh of relief left her mouth as she knelt down beside the fire's ashes and glanced around. The grass in the area was beaten down in places –spots where people had slept, no doubt. Using her teeth, she pulled her glove off and ran her fingers through the ashes, finding them to be still just a touch warm.
'It's some hours old,' she thought, wiping her fingers on the end of her tunic. 'They left well before dawn, but they hadn't gone as far as I thought last night. No doubt, they wanted to patch up their injuries and make sure their 'steeds' were well…' Rising to her feet, she wandered through the area, finding tufts of fur here and there as well as some bloody splotches on the grass. There was not much blood, for which she was thankful. 'They'll be going farther today, but I doubt that they think that they're being pursued so soon after the attack…'
Will walked up alongside her, his eyes taking in almost the same sights as Lovisa's. "Well? What do you think?" he asked her.
'Left before dawn. Tended wounds, slept here. Am sure they not know are being tracked, but they still go very far today.'
He nodded and, narrowing his eyes against the morning light, looked towards the east. "Do you think we stand a chance of catching up before they reach their home?"
A heavy sigh left her mouth. 'Would take miracle,' she admitted.
Behind them, the dwarves were doing their own bit of scouting work. Bifur knelt down close to the earth, his eyes narrowed as he ran his fingers alone one of the paw prints left by a warg. "Rukhskhaî iudu Gundabad…" he murmured, his head tilting to the side.
"What's that, Bifur?" Bofur called. He started for his cousin, but something crunched under his foot. He stopped to see what it was.
Bifur stood up. "Rukhskhaî iudu Gundabad," he called out. "Iaktûb udu kuŋ."
Will glanced at Nori, who was closest to him and Lovisa. "What is he sayin'?" he asked.
"Bifur says the wargs aren't from Gundabad –but he doesn't know where they're from," Nori translated.
'Too big for south wargs,' Lovisa added. 'May be some unseen breed from east.'
"Could be," Will murmured. With a small sigh, he started back towards the horses, knowing that they would be heading off again soon. He paused, seeing Bofur staring at something in his hands. "Bofur, what'd ya find?" he curiously inquired, heading for the dwarf.
Bofur glanced up at him before looking back into his palm. He held a small bundle of twisted wire that had once born the shape of leaves and flowers. "I…I found Baylee's ear cuff."
Will frowned. "What?" Bofur held up the wire and he plucked it from his palm, carefully looking it over. "She never takes this off…" he murmured, swallowing hard.
"Oi!" Dwalin was some yards away, holding up a small bag. "I found somethin'!"
With a grim face, Will handed the cuff back to Bofur. "I think it's best if you keep a hold of that for now," he told him before hurrying over to Dwalin. Lovisa and Bifur were the first to reach him and by the time Will and Bofur got there, Dwalin was clutching a small, leather-bound book.
Ori's sketchbook.
"I guess they discarded anything they didn't find to be o' value," Nori murmured, going through the rest of Ori's bag to see what would have been taken. He found only crushed graphite and dirty pieces of cloth. All of Ori's coin had been taken as well as his comb –an odd thing to steal, Nori thought, until he remembered that it had rubies encrusted on its handle.
Dwalin flipped through the pages; he knew it had been empty when Ori left. It was nearly full now. "They don't know how much value this held t' him," he mumbled. With every picture he saw, he felt a pang in his heart, knowing that Ori must have been so happy while drawing these things. Knowing that he was now separated from his family, friends, and his art made him clench his teeth in anger. "Yeh can take a dwarrow from his home an' from his friends an' he'll still be a dwarrow…but if yeh take a dwarrow from his craft, then yer all but destroyin' him," he muttered darkly, closing the sketchbook.
Bofur set his hand on Dwalin's shoulder, though he said nothing. For once in his life, he was at a loss for words. Closing his eyes, he silently uttered a prayer to Aulë to keep the three safe and from harm. Then, he sent a prayer to Oromë, a god the dwarves did not often worship –he was the hunting god and a great friend to the elves. Never the less, he asked the Oromë for his blessing in their hunt to find their friends and, even if he could not grant them a fully blessing, to at least keep the trail plain enough for their eyes to see.