A/N: Hello all! Sorry these chapters have been taking awhile, real life likes to butt in sometimes. Thank you for all the lovely (and, at times, humorous) reviews you all have been leaving! They're always good to read when I'm having a downer moment. ;)
Anyway, here's chapter 17 at long last!
Chapter Seventeen
"Me deména y carcharorion!"
Ori yelped, being startled out of the light nap he was taking. Behind him, Ankita snorted as she brought the warg to a halt. He winced, the stopping motion of the large creature being none-too gentle and he lurched forward, his face smashing into the back of the warg's skull. Ankita cocked her brow before grabbing the back of his tunic and tugging him upright once more.
"Why are we stopping?" he dared to ask, glancing around. Over the last two days, the scenery had drastically changed from wide, open plains to ancient forests made up of twisted oak and fir trees. The air here was heavy and made Ori sweat under all of his clothes, but he endured it without complaint; Tyko had made the mistake of complaining sometime the previous week and ended up with a bruised jaw.
"Time to mask eyes," she told him, smirking.
He glanced over his shoulders and frowned at her. "Wh-what? Why?" he demanded, his voice shaking. He had never enjoyed having his eyes covered; it only left him feeling scared and all alone, even if there were people around. Even as a child, he hadn't liked the games of peek-a-boo Dori would play with him.
"Are reaching home," she replied as she slid off of the warg. "Can't have prisoners know how to escape, yeah?" She grinned at him before winking.
Swallowing hard, Ori looked across the group of wargs and women, trying to find Baylee and Tyko. Tyko he found some yards behind them, his eyes already bound and a gag wrapped around his mouth. Baylee, though, was in the midst of the pack, her shoulders slumped and her chin resting against her chest as she slept.
And then everything went black.
Ori struggled slightly against the blindfold as Ankita slid it around his face. "It's too tight," he protested. With his arms tied behind his back once more and his legs quite sore from the long days of riding, he was –to say the least- quite uncomfortable.
"Is fine," she told him. "Can fit finger between cloth and skull easily, so stop whining, yeah?" She climbed back onto the warg behind him, checking the harnesses one last time before calling over to Vlasta. The leader gave a nod and a whistle; the wargs took off. "Soon, little dwarf, will see beautiful homeland. Of course, won't see most of it; you are to be slave, yeah? May only get to see fields or mines!" She let out a throaty laugh.
Quietly grumbling to himself, Ori closed his eyes under the blindfold; it wasn't as if he was using them anyway. 'If they send me to the mines,' he thought, feeling the warg trot up hill, 'then there is a chance I could escape. Dwarrows are naturals at finding our way underground…' He scrunched his nose up slightly; the air was beginning to change. It was getting lighter and smelled less of moss and decay.
A few minutes later, a blast of cool, salty air blew against his face. He quietly gasped, for the air was a welcomed relief to the stifled warmth of the forest. Tilting his head back, he tried his best to see underneath the blindfold, but it was to no avail. He could only see a small sliver of light that did not grant him any sort of view.
Almost an hour passed before the ground leveled out once more. Vlasta raised her hand as they reached the edge of the cliff that would lead down into their city and a warm smile came to her lips. Giving out a command, she undid the blindfold around Baylee's eyes, though the younger woman continued to sleep. Her brow rose and she leaned down.
"It is time to wake up, eh?" she told her, lightly prodding her shoulder.
"I'm sleepin'," Baylee mumbled.
Vlasta chuckled. "Have reached home. Should open your eyes and look, eh? It's quite beautiful."
Cursing under her breath, Baylee lifted her head only to feel a dull ache in her neck from having her head tilted for so long. She rolled her head around her shoulders a bit before opening her eyes and blinking against the sunlight. When her eyes had adjusted, she found herself staring at a large town resting around the shores of an inland sea. The buildings looked as if they had once housed a great and wealthy people, though many of their stone walls had been taken over by centuries of ivy or climbing roses. If she squinted, she could see vast farm fields in the distance. She had a feeling that, if he had been allowed, Ori would have liked to stop and draw the scene.
"What do you think, eh?" Vlasta inquired as she led her warg down the narrow road leading down into the city. "Beautiful, isn't it?"
"It's…ah…very green," Baylee replied. In fact, the city was quite a pretty sight, but being held prisoner left her feeling rather pessimistic about this new place, no matter its beauty.
"Green is good color. Green is color of life, eh?" Tilting Baylee's head back, she smirked. "And it's the color of prettiest eyes."
Baylee swallowed hard, her cheeks turning deep red as Vlasta stared down at her. It wasn't the first time the leader had tried flirting with her, but it was one of the more bold and outright attempts. "I've seen prettier," she mumbled, forcing chin out of Vlasta's hand so she could look forward again.
"Hm. I haven't," Vlasta grinned. She glanced back at the other women, a small frown coming to her lips. Zuza was finding delight in prodding Ori's smooth jaw and hissing insults at him. Rolling her eyes, she barked an order at the woman and, with a pout of protest, Zuza stopped. Vlasta shook her head and looked back to the path ahead. "How well do you know the dwarf?" she asked, rather out of the blue.
Her brows furrowed slightly. "W-why?"
"Whenever stopped, you always go to him and fret. Have been giving him most of your food, even though are too skinny. Are you lovers, eh?" She chuckled quietly as Baylee's cheeks darkened once more.
"We're only friends."
"Then what about man? Have been fretting over him, too. Is he your lover?"
"No. I don't have a lover –an' just because I fret over someone doesn't instantly make 'em my lover," she scolded. "I worry about my friends an' I don't want them t' get hurt anymore."
"Then tell me of talents that three of you possess, eh? Will try to keep them from harm."
Baylee raised her brow and turned slightly, looking up at Vlasta. The woman looked quite wild with her face uncovered and her thick hair haphazardly pulled back. "You'll…what?"
She shrugged. "Try to keep from harm. What so surprising, eh? I don't hate males like Zuza or Brina. And you –you're cute and small, eh?" She winked at her. "So tell talents."
Wincing as she tried to move her bound arms, Baylee bit her tongue. "Well…um. Ori's an artist. He's quite good at drawin' an' paintin'. He also does a lot o' writing and researchin' things…I don't really know Tyko too well t' know his talents beside bein' a soldier."
Vlasta nodded slowly, thinking of various places that would readily accept an artist. She already knew where Tyko would end up –Prema had claimed him for her harem and had made sure that the rest of the group knew it. "Then what of you? What talents have you, eh?"
Baylee was silent for many minutes. She tried to think of something she was good at, but there was nothing coming to mind. She was no good with artistic things and she was only so-so at sewing. Even at cooking she wasn't very good with –the exception being baking, but even that didn't seem like a talent to her.
"Well?"
"I-I don't have a talent."
"Everyone has a talent."
She shook her head. "I can't think o' anything."
"Am sure you have one. Think harder, eh?"
Baylee rolled her eyes. "I did think!" she snapped. "I'm an inn maid; I don't have time for anythin' else other than makin' food an' servin' it to people." If she could rub her forehead, she would have; her patience had grown very thin these past two weeks.
Vlasta's brow rose. "Do people enjoy it when are served by you?"
She shrugged and glanced away, glowering at the sea. "They don't complain if that's what you mean."
"Then there is talent! Serving people." A mischievous grin came to her lips, bringing a sense of foreboding to Baylee. "Know plenty of people who need pretty little servants –don't worry, as top of pack, I decide where you go, eh? I'll make sure Ori and you end up safe."
"And Tyko…?"
She laughed and ruffled Baylee's hair –much to the shorter woman's annoyance. "Eh, Prema already claimed him. She's nice to her harem. Spoils them. Will take good care of him."
Baylee sighed, her eyes staring out at the sea; it reminded her of the Long Lake and her home. "She had better," she muttered.
Dwalin had his knees pulled to his chest as he kept third watch for the night, though his eyes were fixed on the low flames of the fire instead on the trees around them. He couldn't remember how many days ago they had departed from Dale; he had only been focused on following the quickly-fading trail. It must have been nearly three days since they had left the grassy plains behind them and had entered into a land of hard ground and short, rough grass. Trees dotted the landscape and were steadily growing closer and closer with each hour of travel.
Sighing, he tossed a small branch onto the flames, not caring when a few yellow-orange sparks flew into the air. He thought he may have heard a twig snap in the distance, but as he glanced over his shoulder, he could see nothing –even when squinting.
"Need any company?"
He glanced up as Bofur sat down across from him. "Yeh should be sleepin'."
"I can't sleep."
"Why?"
Bofur plucked up a stick and started poking at the fire. "Because I'm worried. I think we're losin' the trail. It's gettin' harder 'n harder by the hour for Lovisa t' find it. I mean, she's been doin' a good job o' findin' the way so far –even when it rained on us a couple o' days ago- an' t' know she's havin' t' look so hard…" He felt silent, still poking the coals.
Dwalin sighed. "I know how yeh feel, lad," he murmured. "Will an' Bifur have been tryin' their best t' help her, too. I just…I keep thinkin' what may be happenin' t' Ori an' I get worried. He's a tough lad, I know tha', but he's almost entirely without friends an' in a strange place." He rubbed his face, cursing.
Rubbing his temples, Bofur sighed. "I don't want t' think about what's happenin' to them anymore. I just want t' rescue 'em."
"You and the rest of us." Nori propped himself up on his elbow, having been awakened by the other two. "But we are getting closer, even if you two knuckleheads can't see it."
Dwalin cocked his brow as he looked at the former thief. "What makes yeh say that? We've been goin' south, not north –the prisoner said tha' their base was near the Iron Mountains. We're nowhere near those peaks."
"It's called lying." He brushed some of his hair from his face; it had been so long since he had properly tended to his hair that it was flat and he had been forced into leaving it in three long braids. "She's loyal to her people. She wouldn't give out the real location o' her group -even under pain o' death." He glanced up towards the sky. "If you haven't notice, we're nearing the Sea o' Rhûn."
"I noticed the salt in the air, but…I didn't think we were that far south," Bofur admitted. "But why do ya think we're gettin' closer just because we're near a sea?"
Nori raised his brow. "There are mountains blockin' their path to the west and south and a sea to the east. They're cornered. Their base must be somewhere in this area." He stretched back out on the ground, his hands behind his head. "And stop thinkin' about what may be happenin' to them –start thinking about how much more Ori and Baylee are goin' to cherish you when you rescue them."
"What?" both dwarrows chorused. They were baffled by the fact that it was Nori of all people attempting to give them words of comfort. He was normally the one laughing at such words and calling them false hopes.
"Don't tell me you haven't thought of it –their reactions when they see tha' you two helped save them." He closed his eyes; he thought he could hear something rustling nearby. "You'll be their heroes. I doubt Ori would want t' leave Dwalin's side after this, even though I'm sure Dori will fuss about and make him go home for at least a week. Baylee…" he shrugged, no longer hearing the noise, "well, she may give Bofur a kiss. Who knows?"
Bofur felt his cheeks darken. "Wouldn't mind that," he murmured, tossing his poking-stick into the flames.
"Me neither," Dwalin admitted, a hint of a grin coming to his lips. "Been a long while since I got t' even hold Ori…After this, I probably won't let go for three days or more." He quietly chuckled at the thought.
The three of them jumped as Lovisa suddenly sat up, a hoarse noise leaving her throat. Bofur was just about to ask what was wrong when he heard the creaking sound of bows being drawn. He swallowed hard and slowly held up his hands, trying to see who surrounded them from the corner of his eyes.
"What business do heavily-armed riders have in the lands of Dorwinion?"
Bofur narrowed his eyes. The voice sounded oddly familiar. Where had he heard it before?
"Speak up!" the person commanded, stepping into the light. Their face was covered from the nose down by brow, skin-tight cloth. Though he could not recognize the voice, Bofur recognized those eyes –he had wanted to leave one swollen shut and bruise just a couple of months ago.
"…Rán?"
Baylee was suddenly quite thankful for her small size.
The three prisoners had their wrists tied together, causing Tyko to be bent almost in half as he walked on Ori's left. In an attempt to relieve his pain, Ori and Baylee raised their arms up, though this was only a temporary fix, as they started to lose feeling soon after. For anyone watching them, it was an amusing sight, but for them, it was a painful situation.
Prema and Malasintha walked behind them while Vlasta was before them, leading them with a rope. They were being led down a narrow street, out of the eye of most of the city's inhabitants. From what people the prisoners did see, however, they could see that the men were mostly clean-shaven, though a few retained their beards and all wore collars made out of either metal or leather. Those with smooth chins had the lower half of their faces covered by thin, transparent veils. Some of the men–mostly those with the beards- were roaming about without a woman near them, but the rest were either walking alongside a woman or were being led about by a woman holding a leash attached to their collars.
"What sort of place is this?" Ori mumbled.
"One where women are in control," Tyko muttered. He glanced around, looking rather uncomfortable. "But it seems not all o' the men have it off bad. Some o' them seem t' be quite equal with the women."
"That they do," Baylee sighed. She scrunched her nose up; there was some scent in the air that was making her nose itch and she badly needed to sneeze.
Ori glanced up at Vlasta. "Where are you taking us?"
She looked at him from over her shoulder, her brow slightly raised. "Taking you to see queen," she answered. "Need to show her our spoils, eh?" Smirking, she lightly tugged on the rope, bringing them closer to her.
Baylee looked down at the ropes around her wrist. "Do we have t' be tied up like this?" she quietly asked.
"Could run away, yeah?" Malasintha laughed, resting her arm on her shoulder. "That'd be bad, so keep you tied up. Will be untied soon, so no worries, yeah?" She ruffled Baylee's hair before moving to toy with Ori's braids. He tried to lean his head away, but it was of no use. "Are cute for a dwarf," she admitted. "Will be shame seeing go into mines…have possibility of being quite good concubine."
"Except I'm not into lasses," Ori quietly growled, looking away from her.
Malasintha chuckled. "Yeah, know," she chirped, seeming to be not very disappointed by it. "Is fine though. Could just have feed me food and drink all day, yeah?" She gave him a playful wink before pulling back.
"Except he's not going into your harem, eh?" Vlasta told her. She then told the other two women something in their native tongue, earning a laugh from them. The three prisoners did not know whether they should feel afraid or not.
Ori shook his head. "At least we know Tyko's safe," he murmured. "Prema isn't about to let him get sent out of her sight."
Tyko shuddered. "You'd think it was a blessin', but she kisses like a pike…" he whispered. That earned a quiet giggle from Baylee.
"You would know what that's like?" she softly teased. She suddenly winced as she finally sneezed. However, she instinctively tried to cover her face with her arm, but only succeeded in accidentally yanking Ori and Tyko towards her. They cursed and stumbled, causing the three of them to tumble to the ground. "Sorry," she groaned, half pinned under Ori.
Their captors cracked up in a fit of laughter, as did some of the people nearby. Vlasta and Prema reached down, yanking the three of them to their feet, still giggling at what had happened. They grunted and winced, wobbling slightly before they righted themselves. Grinning, Prema dusted off Tyko's front, causing his cheeks to grow deep red in embarrassment.
Vlasta shook her head, giving Prema an order before continuing on down the street. "Almost there," she told their prisoners. "Is just around the corner. You are not to talk in front of queen, eh? She is strict woman. Does not tolerate it when prisoners have attitude, so just stay quiet, eh? Not want prisoners missing their tongues."
Baylee shuddered at the thought and unconsciously scooted a little closer to Ori. He glanced up at her, trying to give her a reassuring smile. "We'll be fine," he quietly told her.
"Vlasta told me that she wasn't goin' t' let you 'n me go somewhere bad," she murmured. "I don't know if I should believe her or not…"
"Well, she has taken a bit o' a liking to us…even if it does mostly involve feeding us strange soup that leaves us making odd faces…"
She nodded. "Though, that odd lemon and mint soup was actually pretty tasty…"
Ori and Tyko cocked their brows. "It was far too tart," Tyko told her, "and the mint was odd with it." Ori nodded in agreement.
Lightly shaking her head, Baylee sighed. She had enjoyed the soup's tartness; then again, that was why she loved lemons so much. She understood, however, that not everyone enjoyed their sour flavor. 'At least there is one upside to being kidnapped,' she thought, 'because home certainly doesn't have as many lemons as down here…'
She was pulled from her thoughts as they were led past a pair of heavily armed, female guards and into the yard of largest building the three prisoners had seen yet. Climbing roses had taken over the building's façade, leaving it covered by vines and blossoming flowers. As Vlasta and the others approached, a bearded man bowed to them, speaking to Vlasta in their tongue. She replied and motioned at the prisoners before he opened the door and allowed them to step inside.
As the three prisoners were led into the building, the man hurried off, leaving them to wait by the door. They found the entrance hall to be surprisingly bright and airy, though the air was heavily scented with the scent of orchids. Baylee's nose started to itch again, and she let out a tiny sneeze, managing to keep herself from trying to cover it. She sneezed twice more before the footman returned to lead them off.
"Are alright?" Malasintha asked her, her brows furrowing.
"Orchids and my nose don't get along," Baylee replied, her voice sounding a little funny from all the sneezes. "I'll be f-fi-" Another sneeze.
Vlasta raised her brow. "Don't breathe through nose, eh?" Her tone sounded more serious now that they were in the palace and Baylee found herself doing her best to suppress any other sneezes.
The footman pushed open a pair of wooden doors and they were brought into a large room with a vaulted ceiling. There were cushions everywhere and lying on those cushions were three people –two veiled men and a woman. The men, they saw, wore ornate collars, marking them as concubines, while the woman was dressed in simple clothing and jewelry –a servant, perhaps? At the far end of the room there was a throne with a woman sprawled across it, her legs crossed. Earthy red-brown designs were painted over her golden skin, broken up only by the occasional piece of jewelry here and there. Her lips, painted black, were pulled back in a grin as she watched the three raiders approach with their catch. Almost her entire left cheek was covered in precious stones of varying sizes.
Malasintha and Prema lightly pushed down on the threes' shoulders, signaling for them to kneel. As they awkwardly did so, the two women made them bow their heads as well before they, too, knelt. Stuck there and left unable to see the queen as she started to talk, the prisoners focused their attention on listening to the conversation starting up between Vlasta and the queen, though they knew they wouldn't be able to understand what was said.
Ori subtly nudged Baylee and wiggled his hands about in a very rudimentary form of Iglishmêk. 'How feel?'
'Not breathe well,' she replied, having to spell most of her sentence out for him. 'Need sneeze. Not want to.'
'Sneeze. Can't help if sick.'
'Am afraid.'
'Is bad to hold in.'
They ceased their conversation as Prema walked before them and began untying Tyko's wrists from theirs. He swallowed hard, glancing at them; he had a hopeless look on his features. He mouthed 'Good luck' before he was led off by Prema. Baylee nervously bit her tongue, feeling tears welling up in her eyes at the thought of possibly never seeing him again.
'We were supposed to all get out of here,' she told herself. 'How can we do that now that he's being taken who-knows-where by Prema? Not to mention, Ori and I have no idea where we're ending up.' She clenched her eyes shut and rested her head against his shoulder, feeling him lean his head against hers. 'Please, Valar, don't let us get separated…Please. I promised to watch over him; you can't let me break that promise.'
She heard the rustling of moving cloth and opened her eyes in time to see the sandaled feet of the queen walking towards the two of them. Vlasta said something, but was abruptly cut off as the queen lifted her hand. Crouching down in front of the dwarf and human, she tilted her head and curiously looked the two over.
"Such an odd pair," she remarked, her hands reaching out and gently cupping Baylee and Ori's chins. She lifted their heads so that she could get a better view of their faces. "It's rare to find human and dwarf who are so close." Her voice was deep and smooth; it almost reminded Baylee of a drink that Will had brought her once. If she remembered correctly, it had been called 'chocolate'.
Ori swallowed hard, but found himself surprised by her near-perfect Westron. Now that she was closer to them, he could see that this woman had to be –at most- in her late thirties. She wore white, knee-length trousers and a long, sleeveless green tunic heavily embroidered with silver thread. Her black hair was tied back in many intricate braids, a look that Ori hated to admit he was impressed by. He forced himself to hold the woman's gaze, not wanting to reveal to her that he was afraid of her.
Baylee, on the other hand, was forced to look away as yet another sneeze managed to work its way out of her nose. Two more followed suit with a fourth behind determinedly held back, despite her quivering jaw. The fifth, however, escaped and she groaned.
"Someone isn't fond of my incense, it seems," the queen chuckled, watching as Baylee's cheeks darkened. "Vlasta, look at all these freckles! Have seen a person with so many freckles before?" She giggled and pulled a silken handkerchief from within her sleeve.
Vlasta shifted, the only sign that betrayed her unease. "No, my queen."
'She doesn't seem as strict as Vlasta made her out to be,' Ori found himself thinking. He watched as she used the silk to clean up Baylee's face. 'Gentle, even…yet she commands these raiders?'
"Thank-you," Baylee mumbled, her voice still a bit on the nasally side. Vlasta winced as she spoke, but the queen merely smiled.
"A queen must be generous to her subjects, no matter if slaves, concubines, or free folk," she mused, folding the handkerchief and tucking it back into her sleeve. Reaching out, she slid her hand into Ori's hair. "Have not met a dwarf with hair as soft as yours," she told him. In an almost childlike manner, she bit her lower lip and started to run both hands through his hair. "Is almost like silk…surely you must have been the envy of the dwarves back in your home?"
"N-no," Ori replied, his cheeks turning as red as Vlasta's hair. He heard one of the men behind him chuckle and whisper to the other man.
"Shame. You should be." She cupped his chin between her index finger and thumb, giving it a playful wiggle. "And you've such a cute face!" Standing, she turned to look back at Vlasta, asking her questions in their own tongue again.
Vlasta replied, stiffening slightly. Her eyes kept glancing over to the prisoners, something that the queen noticed. A mischievous grin came to her lips as she went to her throne and sprawled out in it once more.
"Vlasta has told me she has decided where two of you will go," she told Baylee and Ori. "Let us hope she sends you somewhere that is nice." She waved a hand to the other woman, motioning for her to speak.
Baylee and Ori held their breaths, expecting to hear the worst.
"Baylee will join my harem," Vlasta spoke, her voice revealing only a hint of nervousness, "and Ori a servant to harem."
Rán rubbed his temple, having been silent the entire time he listened to the group's tale of how Ori and Baylee had been captured by a band of all-female, warg-riding raiders and how they were hunting said raiders down. To anyone else, it would have sounded ridiculous –after all, Middle Earth had kingdoms, not queendoms- but he knew better. He and his rangers had been trying to find the secret home of the raiders for years, but with no luck. That's why he was surprised that this group from Dale had made it even this far.
"No one has ever seen their base," he told them at length. "We've been searching five years and we have yet to find it."
"Lovisa's an excellent tracker," Dwalin replied.
He nodded slowly, massaging his forehead tiredly. He hadn't slept in two days because of the news he had heard about a heavily armed group of riders and had wanted to deal with them. "So…what did you plan to do upon discovering their base of operations?" He watched as they all looked between each other, some of them shrugging.
"We…sort o' discussed Nori an' Lovisa sneaking in t' get a look of the place," Will answered. "But those discussions never got very far." He glanced over his shoulder at the man standing behind him; the rangers, despite having tucked their bows away, still had the group of travelers huddled in a group as if they were captives. "We need to see the place before we get any sort o' solid plan formed."
Rán cocked his brow, not seeming very impressed by this news. "You have not any sort of plan?" he repeated. "Then you are on a suicide mission. These women are not just raiders –they are skilled warriors with brains!" His voice was getting harsher with each word. "Do you think they would leave their base unguarded so that they could be discovered?"
"And do yeh think we're goin' t' let 'em go without tryin' t' rescue them?" Dwalin snapped. "They're our friends an' our family –we're willin' t' die t' seem 'em safe!"
Nori reached over, placing his hand over Dwalin's chest to make sure he didn't do anything rash. Dwalin gave him a sidelong glance, as if thanking him for holding him back.
Watching him, Rán leaned back, resting his hands on his knees. "I am well aware of this, Master Dwalin, but that does not stop me from believing you all to be foolishly rash about this matter." He glanced past the dwarves and human at his rangers before letting out a heavy sigh. "As such, we are going to accompany you. Not only will you –hopefully- get Miss Baylee and Master Ori back, but we will discover the whereabouts of the raiders. You will also have reinforcements should anything go wrong."
Lovisa cleared her throat. Will shifted, watching as her hands hurriedly spoke for her. "She wants proof that you're truly rangers o' Dorwinion," Will told them.
Bofur nodded. "Truthfully, we'd like the same proof. I mean, you seem like rangers 'n all, but you could just be more raiders. You wear no sigil o' your country or anythin'."
At that, Nakara let out a laugh. "Of course we bear sigils of home realm," he told them. "They are not obvious with just a glance." He pulled the necks of his tunic and undershirt down and reached under his clothes, pulling out a necklace. All the rangers followed suit, Will and Nori leaning forward to inspect them.
After looking the necklaces –which had pendants of thick glass shaped into a black elk- Nori gave a curt nod. "They're rangers," he told the others. "We can trust them."
Lovisa slowly nodded, though her eyes were still narrowed in suspicion. She glanced over at Bifur as he set his hand on her shoulder.
'Everything be fine,' he reassured her in Iglishmêk. He gave her a small smile, but it was hidden beneath his beard in the dim light.
Lovisa merely nodded in response and let out a quiet sigh. She still didn't entirely trust the rangers, even after being given proof. Shaking her head, she brushed her bangs out of her face and watched as Bofur leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. She had noticed that he and Rán had been throwing glares at one another ever since the rangers arrived.
'I know they met before,' she thought, 'so I wonder what had transpired between them…?'
"So, does this mean we're free t' move about again?" Bofur questioned. "Or are your rangers goin' t' continue standin' around us like we're your captives?"
Rán's brow rose and he gave a signal, the other rangers easing up and moving to sit down on the ground behind him and grab some food for the night. Bofur, however, stood up and walked off into the darkness so that he could relieve himself. "We need to come up with some semblance of a plan." He was speaking more to Will and Lovisa, since they seemed to be in charge of the group. "We know that they have wargs, so when we come into the forest, I will have Fifika find an herb that will mask our scent."
Lovisa nodded, her hands moving about as she signed to Will. "She says that she knows of the herb you're talkin' about," he translated. "She didn't know it grows this far south."
He nodded. "It does, though mostly in mountainous regions." Covering his mouth, he hid a large yawn from the two of them.
"You should get some sleep," Will told him. "You look exhausted."
"And I am exhausted; we all are. Once we heard of your group, we came as fast as we could."
Nori stretched back out on his blankets. "How did you even hear o' us? From what we've seen, we haven't passed by any villages or cities."
Will glanced at him. "We have passed villages, though they're not too noticeable unless you're lookin' for them," he answered for Rán. "Those who live in the Dorwinion plains dig their homes into the ground; all those mounds we've seen the last few days? Those are homes. It keeps them warm durin' winter an' cool during summer."
Nakara nodded as he offered Ashailyn some water from his flask. She gladly took it. "For being a citizen of Dale, you know quite a bit about our people," he commented.
"I've been t' Avënor a number o' times throughout my life," he chuckled. "In fact, when you lot came t' Dale, I had only been home a few days from my last trip there."
"You are one of the traders then?" Hunil asked, chewing some jerky.
Will nodded. "Aye, I am. I wish I could be here on better circumstances, but…" he shook his head.
As they spoke, Rán sighed and rose to his feet, walking off into the trees as well. He was just about duck behind a tree when he spotted Bofur walking back to camp. His brow rose and a feeling of jealousy welled up inside of him at the sight of the dwarf; he remembered quite well how close he and Baylee had seemed.
Passing by him, Bofur grumbled something under his breath and shoved his hands in his pockets to keep himself from hitting the ranger. He did, however, shoot him a highly territorial glare. A quiet sigh left his mouth as his fingers brushed against the warm metal of the ruined ear cuff. Returning to his bedroll, he lay down and pulled his cloak over himself, trying to will himself to go back to sleep.
'She better be alright,' he thought, his eyes closing. His thumb stroked the metal wires of the cuff. 'I don't know what I'd do if she weren't…And it doesn't help that Rán's here now. I'm sure he'll try to woo her…' He clenched his teeth, his brows furrowing. 'He won't succeed. She doesn't know him well enough to fancy him.'
In an attempt to calm himself down, he thought back to Nori's words earlier and a small smile came to his lips. 'I'm not going to get my hopes up, though…a kiss would be nice, but a hug would work just as well. Just knowing she's alive and well would be enough.'
He opened an eye when he heard someone lay down near him. There was no one in front of him, so he lifted his head and glanced over his shoulder to see Bifur pulling his cloak around him. It wasn't a particularly cold night, so their cloaks and capes were blankets enough. He noticed that his cousin looked a bit troubled, though he couldn't tell if it was because of their situation or if he was suffering from another ax-induced headache. Regardless, he let out a quiet sigh and closed his eyes; this time, he did fall asleep.
"I'm surprised I was able t' fit so many braids into your hair, what with it being so short now…"
"My hair feels really heavy now thanks t' all those trinkets the others had ya put in. I almost feel like I'm goin' t' fall over."
"Well, you're a…a concubine now, so I guess you're supposed t' look really fancy all of the time."
Baylee pulled her knees to her chest and rested her chin atop them. She watched Ori as he poured some sort of lemon drink –Vlasta had called it 'limonata'- into a cup and handed it to her. "Thank you," she sniffed, taking it. "As much as I love lemons, I may get sick o' 'em soon…" She sniffed again, her nose still runny from the orchids earlier.
Ori quietly chuckled. "Don't worry. Dinner hasn't any lemons in it or near it. In fact, it's rather…Dale-like."
"Oh?" She sipped the drink. It was good, being tart and sweet at the same time. "How so?"
"Lamb rubbed with herbs and…I think it's called olive oil? Along with rosemary potatoes and some weird sort o' mashed bean mixture."
She nodded. "Aye, olive oil. Will brought us some once…it was…interestin' to cook with. I liked it because it kept things from stickin' better than butter, grease, or lard. Had a funny flavor, though." Setting her cup aside, she slid off of the bed, many metal trinkets in her hair and on her clothing tinkling as did so, and walked over to the window, opening it. Vlasta had made her home in one of the buildings closest to the sea, allowing for a cool, salty breeze to blow in. It was one of the few things Baylee admitted she liked about the place –so far, at least.
"Do you need anything else?" Ori asked, watching her.
Hopping up, she sat on the windowsill, her back resting against the cool stone. "Just because Vlasta made ya a servant doesn't mean I'm goin' t' treat ya like one," she told him. She looked back at him, a pitying look coming to her face. As a servant, Ori had to keep the lower half of his face covered by one of the sheer veils that most men wore –and yet, his torso and arms were bare, save for an armband of bronze on his left arm. He had no trousers, only a knee-length skirt and sturdy sandals. "I'm sorry you have t' walk around in a skirt, Ori…I know men prefer trousers-"
He chuckled. "Ah, I don't mind it so much. This is actually very close t' what we wore in Ered Luin during the summer or any sort of festival," he told her.
Her brows furrowed in confusion. "What?"
"Aye…it would get so warm in those mountains during summer –thanks to all of the furnaces goin', you know- that we males just tossed off our shirts an' trousers and started wearin' skirts. Only, we called them kilts. Some men wore them, too, but I think that was only west of the Misty Mountains." He moved to sit on the foot of her bed. "If it's any consolation, I'm actually a bit relieved to have so little clothes right now; this place is really warm."
She smiled, tucking one of her braids behind her ear. "At least there's that." Looking back out of the window, she watched the waves roll up onto the sandy beach. "What sort o' chores do ya have t' do? Well…besides serve us in the harem…" She sneezed –just once; she had gotten over the main sneezing fit after her bath.
"Just that, really. Even then, Vlasta told me I'm more of your servant than anything, though if one o' the other concubines asks me to do something, I'm to do it, since they're above me." His hands toyed with one of the metal decorations lining the hem of his skirt. "They're nice, you know…the other concubines. There are only three of them. All o' them male, but they're nice. They'd like to meet you."
"I'll meet them in time." She unconsciously rubbed a bruise on her arm; the concubines may have been nice, but the servant girl who had been instructed to help bathe her that morning had been anything but. She reminded Baylee of Brina, but without Vlasta around to keep watch, she had gotten away with painfully tugging her around and smacking her when she hadn't been quick enough or understood her broken Westron.
Ori nodded slowly and sighed. "We will get out of here, you know," he told her after some minutes.
Baylee looked back at him. "Of course we will," she chuckled. "Dwalin's probably on his way already." She rubbed her eyes as she sniffled.
He smiled. "Don't forget Bofur. No doubt he's on Dwalin's heels, flailing his mattock."
Her cheeks turned beet red. "Wh-why Bofur?" she inquired curiously.
Ori raised his brow, giving her a look. "Oh, don't even pretend t' hide it, Baylee. I know you fancy Bofur."
Eyes widening and cheeks getting even darker, Baylee looked very startled. "B-but I never told ya that!"
"You didn't have to." He quietly chuckled and scratched his chin under the veil. "On the way here, you'd mumble about him in your sleep. That is, when you slept."
A frown came to her face. "What d'ya mean?"
He shrugged, laying back. "You obviously dreamt about him. You would mumble to him, like you were havin' a conversation' with him –mostly about how ya wanted him t' come rescue us. I don't think he ever made it, though, because you woke up screaming sometimes…"
She rubbed the back of her neck. "I don't remember the parts with Bofur," she quietly told him, "only the nightmares."
"Those must be horrible nightmares you have then."
"They are, because they're not imaginary dreams. They're real memories." She gave him a small smile. "Is there any food on tha' tray?"
He shook his head as he sat up. "No, but I can get you some."
"Ya can show me t' the kitchen, but I won't have you doin' servant work for me." Sliding off of the windowsill, she grabbed her cup of limonata and finished it before heading for the door. "I told you that already."
Ori hopped up, following after her. "Be careful around the cook," he warned. "She's quick t' smack you with a spoon if you're stealing a nibble from something."
"Have you tried?"
"No, but a different servant did and now he has a big welt on his cheek." He slipped by her once they were in the hallway and, taking her hand, led her down to the kitchen. It was a relatively short journey and they saw no one else on the way. Poking his head into the kitchen, he looked around and found that the cook was nowhere in sight. Breathing a sigh of relief, he brought Baylee into the room. "I don't really know where everything is yet…"
"Not surprisin', bein' that we've only been here two days." She started to explore the room, pausing once in a while to adjust her top. After that, she kept her arms crossed over her scarred stomach. It was nothing more than a long, wide piece of cloth that looped around her neck and was secured tightly against her chest by a decorative cord just under her breasts. Her trousers were no better –they ended at her knees and had large holes on the outer part of the leg, showing off her thighs. She had never before worn clothing that bared so much skin and she was not the least bit comfortable, even with how warm it was.
'Why couldn't I just wear a tunic like the queen?' she thought, opening a cupboard door. Inside were bowls and plates. 'She gets to wear covering clothes; why can't I? Oh Valar, if Bofur does come with Dwalin to rescue us, I hope I'm not in this!' She shuddered at the thought.
"You're in entirely the wrong area. That is, if you're looking for food."
Baylee and Ori spun around, the former letting out a curse as she did so. Standing the doorway was a man in his mid-thirties, clad in much the same garb as Ori but only with much more jewelry. Under his veil, the two of them could see that he sported a braided goatee.
"You must be the new concubine," he chuckled, approaching Baylee. "I'm Dag. Sorry if I startled you." He held out his hand to her.
Hesitantly, she reached out and shook his hand. "B-Baylee," she replied, her arm unconsciously moving to cross over her stomach again.
"You're the first woman Vlasta's taken into the harem," he mused, looking her over. "An' you're a young'n. How old are ya? Sixteen? Seventeen?"
"…Just turned twenty-five, actually," she murmured, glancing away shyly. She bit her tongue, suddenly feeling even smaller and more vulnerable than before. Again, she rubbed her arm. "Not even sure why she made me a concubine…I'm much more suited t' bein' a servant, since I work in an inn."
He set his hand on his hip, laughing; it was a friendly laugh. "Vlasta doesn't need a reason to do anything. She just does it." Walking across the kitchen, he opened a door that led into a pantry. "Except, of course, when Damayanti comes t' call."
"Damayanti?" Ori asked, his brows furrowing. "Who's she?"
Dag turned, looking at him. "The queen. Haven't ya met her yet? That was the first place Vlasta took me when she captured me."
"We met her, but we didn't learn her name," Ori explained. He walked past Dag and into the pantry.
"Stay out o' the left side of the room," Dag warned, "or else Hezra will tan your hide. The right side is all the food meant for snackin' an' whatnot. But whatever's on the left is for proper meals and company."
Baylee watched as the two males disappeared into the pantry, leaving her to aimlessly wander about the kitchen. It was much bigger than the Tankard's kitchen, which surprised her –it had been big even for an inn- but it was almost more organized.
'Don't see why it shouldn't be. This cook doesn't have dozens of people to cook for every day…just a few.' She suppressed a sneeze as she looked out of the window. 'And that Dag…he speaks Westron fluently. He even sounds like he came from Lake Town…'
"You know, that maroon color doesn't suit you. I don't know why Vlasta would have ya walkin' around in that when me 'n the others got colors that compliment us."
She squeaked and spun around again only to find Dag leaving the pantry with a small block of cheese in his hand. Ori was returning with some cheese and slices of bread for him and Baylee. "S-sorry, what?" she asked.
He gave her a pitying look. "I startled ya again, didn't I? I'm sorry…" He rubbed the back of his neck, looking rather ashamed. "Here I am, babblin' like there's no tomorrow when I should be tryin' to console you or something. After all, ya must be terrified if you were brought all the way from Dale like Ori here says."
"I'm just…" She rubbed her arm. "It's just a lot t' take in is all. Maybe after a few days, I'll be less jumpy."
"Doubt it. It took me nearly a month to adjust." He pulled a knife out of a drawer and handed it to Ori, but before the dwarf could take it, Baylee darted forward and took it, starting to slice the cheese. "Ya know, if Hezra comes in an' sees ya doin' that-"
"Ori's my friend, not my servant," she quietly told him. "I live an' work in an inn; I serve him meals. An' it's alright. I'll be fine in a couple o' days. I just need some nights o' proper sleep an' some food tha' isn't made primarily o' mint." Glancing up, she gave him a reassuring smile; even though she had known him for all but of ten minutes, she could tell that this man was truly nice and didn't mean her harm. She hoped the other two concubines were the same, but didn't have much hope for it.
Dag glanced over at the dwarf who merely nodded. "Well…when you've finished, the two o' you should come out into the garden. Jacek an' Motke want t' meet ya." He gave her a teasing grin. "An' don't worry. We're sick o' mint, too."
Lovisa was practically on all fours as she followed a set of tracks. They were old, with the prints of deer and wild pigs crossing over their paths, but she was just barely able to read them. She cursed the light-footedness of the wargs, wishing that they could be more like their western cousins.
'At this rate, I'll lose the trail soon,' she thought, scrunching her nose up. She paused and tiredly rubbed her face. 'We're not even in the forest yet, just on the outskirts! With this dry weather and all the debris on the forest floor, it'll be impossible…'
Tilting her head up, she could see that they were just a few short miles from the foothills of the mountains. The mountains themselves loomed over them, their steep sides covered with birch, oak, and poplar. Sighing, she closed her eyes and hung her head, rubbing the back of her neck, her weariness trying to tell her that she was too old for this, that she should just give up-
Bonk.
She winced, rubbing the top of her head. Why would the tracks lead her into a ruddy tree of all things? Glowering at the tree, she stood upright and rolled her head around her shoulders, feeling her neck creak and crack before some bones popped back into their proper positions.
A twig snapped behind her. "It would be wise for you to take a break, Lady Lovisa." Turning, she found Ashailyn approaching her. "Have been going almost nonstop nearly two days –and who knows how long before that? Need to rest. Know the captives are dear, but you'll be of no use to them half-dead from exhaustion."
Lovisa could only nod, knowing that these strangers did not know any form of Iglishmêk. Part of her did not want to give up the chase, but the sensible –and louder- part of her told her to go back and try to nap atop her horse. Rather than walking all the way back to the rest of the group, who were nearly a quarter of a mile away, she rested her back against a tree and closed her eyes, listening and waiting for them to arrive.
When she opened her eyes, it had grown rather dark and she was atop a horse with someone riding in front of her. Her head snapping up, she looked around, bewildered. They were no longer on the outskirts of the forest, but deep within it, their horses steadily climbing uphill. The dwarf in front of her –Bifur, she guessed from the black-and-white hair- yawned before glancing over his shoulder. He looked a little startled to find her awake, but smiled, raising his hands to sign.
'How nap?'
'Too long. On trail?'
He shook his head. 'Lost it. Rán, Ashailyn scouted forward. Not find much. Found scent-covering herbs, though. Have rubbed them on horses.'
She rubbed her face with both hands, mentally cursing. Why did she have to fall asleep?! If she had stayed awake, she could have kept them on it…Bifur patted her knee reassuringly, causing her to peek out from behind her fingers.
'Have done good job. Got this far,' he assured her. 'Let rangers take over. Know these lands.'
Nodding slowly, she sighed and glanced away. She didn't want to let him know that, without being able to follow any trail, she felt rather useless now. 'Then again,' she thought, 'that's probably how they feel…Especially poor Dwalin and Will.' She looked over only to find that Will was missing –as were Bofur, Rán, and Nakara.
'Where Will?' she asked Bifur.
'Scouting with Rán.'
'Bofur with?'
He nodded.
'Not sure that good thing…'
Lovisa was right in thinking that it was not a good thing. Half a mile away, Bofur was sprinting in an attempt to keep up with Will, Rán, and Nakara. Regardless of his inability to keep up with the taller, quieter adventurers, he was able to hold something over their heads: He had found a set of fresh tracks a little less than twenty minutes ago. Despite this, they had not thanked him, but had instead started running forward.
The three suddenly stopped, causing Bofur to smack into Will. He stumbled forward, but caught himself and Bofur before either of them could fall. "Why'd we stop?" Bofur grunted, rubbing his forehead.
"The path separates," Nakara answered, pointing at the ground.
Rán leaned down to the ground, his eyes searching both set of tracks. "I cannot tell which is newer," he told the others. "We will need to split up."
"I'll go with Nakara," Will replied, "since my eyes aren't as sharp."
Bofur silently argued against this; he didn't want to be left alone with Rán. Regardless, as Rán pointed for Will and Nakara to take the trail leading to the right, he followed to the left. The path that he and Rán were taking seemed to go uphill rather than down –it also led into the thickest part of the trees. What he didn't know, though, was that the ranger was not accustomed to such dense forests or steep slopes; Dorwinion was mostly flat and the foothills were quickly tiring him with their ups and downs.
For the most part, the two of them were silent. They knew full well that they were hated by the other and so they kept their mouths shut, not wanting to start any sort of fight at the moment. The only time they spoke was when they lost the trail and one of them had found it again some ways away. It had mostly been Rán who had rediscovered the tracks this time around; Bofur didn't have as much skill when it came to hunting things. He had the sheer determination, but not the ability to read which tracks belonged to which animal.
Abruptly, they stepped out of the trees and onto a wide, stone ledge. Cool, salty air filled their lungs and brought relief to their warm, sweaty bodies. As they neared the edge of the cliff face, their eyes widened, for below them was a small city covered in ivy. With night quickly approaching, they could see lights filling some of the windows. Out in the bay, they could see small sailing vessels meant for fishing or for trading goods with other shore-dwelling peoples.
Rán sank to his knees and, clasping his hands together, mumbled a prayer of thanks to Oromë in his native tongue, his eyes closing. Bofur, however, set the shaft of his mattock on the ground and rested his arms atop it.
"Finally," he murmured, grinning slightly. "Now t' just find Ori, Baylee, 'n Tyko an' get them out o' there…"
His brow rising, Rán glanced up at the dwarf. "Do you honestly believe it will be that easy?" he asked, getting back to his feet. "We cannot just march into the city and demand their return. We would be killed!"
Bofur rolled his eyes. "O' course we're not goin' t' just go right on in," he snapped. "We're goin' t' come up with some sort o' plan for some o' us t' sneak in an' get a good look 'round the place. Since they were female raiders, we'll probably send in all the women so tha' they won't be questioned."
"And yet, our women do not have the clothing that these women wear, so once more, your 'plan' is rendered useless."
Growling, Bofur narrowed his eyes and looked up at the ranger. "Well, then, what's your bright idea, eh?"
"We returned to Avënor and get permission from the king to gather an army," he stated, his arms crossing over his chest. "And then we attack the city, overwhelming them with our larger numbers."
Bofur stared at him in stupefied shock. "Ya can't just attack an entire city! That's insane!"
"They are raiders, Bofur. They need to be stopped."
"One group o' raiders doesn't mean the whole city is full o' villains!" he cried. He pointed at the bay. "Look, clearly they've got innocent folk livin' there, elsewise there wouldn't merchant vessels or-" he pointed to the south, "farmlands!" He grunted as Rán suddenly grabbed his jacket and shoved him against a tree.
"I have been searching for this city for five years," he snarled. Something about his voice was off, though –it sounded higher pitched than it should have. "I am not about to take orders from a lowly toymaker regarding this situation!"
Before he could stop himself, Bofur slammed his fist into Rán's face. The ranger let go of him and stumbled back, cursing as his nose filled with pain. "Ya wouldn't even have found this place if it weren't for us!" he spat. "So I think we deserve a bit o' credit an' a say in what we do. Especially since our friends are down there. Do ya have any sort o' idea what could happen if we were t' just go in, willy-nilly an' attack the place?!"
Wiping the first drops of blood away from his nose, Rán looked down at his red fingers before glancing up at Bofur. "Of course I do," he snarled. "But it's the only way."
"It is not the only way!"
With a curse, Rán darted forward and tackled Bofur to the ground. Punches, kicks, bites, and even head-butts were all exchanged as the two rolled around on the ground, not caring that their clothes were getting ripped and torn in places. Rán had managed to rip Bofur's hat from his head and gripped his hair, slamming his face into the ground. In return, Bofur slammed his knee between Rán's legs, though it hadn't earned as much of an effect as he had hoped.
By the time Nakara and Will found them, Bofur had gained the upper hand and had Rán pinned to the ground. Both their faces were covered in blood and dirt; their knuckles were just as badly damaged. Will started to rush forward to pull them apart, but Nakara caught his arm and stopped him.
"It is their fight," Nakara quietly told him.
"They'll kill each other!"
Nakara merely shook his head and continued to hold him back.
"If we attack tha' city with a feckin' army," Bofur was shouting, "then Baylee an' Ori an' Tyko could end up dead in the chaos! Do ya really want that!? Do ya really want Baylee dead!?"
"You know I do not!" he snarled. "But it is the only way to get into the city! We do not have the clothes to make proper disguises for the women or wargs to ride in on!"
Bofur growled and smacked him across the face one last time. "The front gate isn't the onl' option, especially when Nori's around!" He got to his feet and stumbled back toward Will and Nakara, snatching his hat off of the ground. "Nori can get us into the city an' get us disguises. We didn't bring him along just because he's Ori's brother, after all." Spitting on the ground, he could see a bit of blood mixed with his saliva.
Rán's brows furrowed and he pushed himself onto his elbows. "I know the front gate is not the only option," he bit back, his tone less harsh, "but we are outnumbered and if they continue to be as smart as they have been, then they surely have those other entrances guarded. They are thieves, after all, so they know where to keep extra guard. As far as I am aware, none of you are able to think like thieves."
"Like I said," Bofur suddenly smirked, "with Nori around, there are always other ways in."