Disclaimer: I do not own the Hobbit.
One would think that after a day and a night of running from goblins. Wargs, orcs and an angry bear, it would be easy to find sleep, but not for Marie. Her companions had all dropped like flies onto bales of hay, piles of rags and the odd shelf if they could fit, and none of them stirred. She tossed about on the tiny pile of hay she had gathered for her bed, her legs getting caught in the woolen green blanket as she did and her hair caught in her suspenders.
But Marie was restless and she didn't understand why. The only reason she could think of was the noise. Not the snoring, that she was used to, and not any of the animals. There was a sound that kept pounding in her ears. She sat up and looked around for the source of the noise, but it seemed to be coming from all around. It was a deep rumble, like the beat of and drum or a heart. It was drawing her oddly enough to her to her pocket. She couldn't resist reaching into her back pocket and pulling out the ring.
It was just as alluring as it was when she had found it in the tunnels, it's strangely perfect shape felt right as she twirled it between her fingers. Marie thought that it was the magic it contained that made it so special, so tempting. A magic ring for her and her alone, a fine prospect in Marie's mind. Then she heard the whispering. It was incoherent and cut through the air like a knife.
She glanced around once more, watching for any prying eyes. The dwarves had settled themselves in somewhat of a circle, Marie between Bifur and Oin to her left, Ori, Bofur and Bombur across at her feet, Gloin and Dwalin to their right, and Thorin and Balin to Marie's. The rest littered around the circle's edge.
Once she was sure none were awake, Marie slipped the ring around her middle finger and let the heavy veil of magic cloaked her. She expected the same unknown thrill she had first experienced the first time she had worn it, but it felt different. Her body felt heavier, more lethargic than she remembered, and her thoughts were being assaulted by the whispers that had grown into a torrent of scrapping sneers and scowls. Marie clasped her hands over her ears to block them out, but it did not work. There was movement near her feet which disrupted the shadows. It was only Ori curled up in a potato sack adjusting himself, but his slight shift sent a ripple effect all around Marie. The part of her that was always rational was screaming for her to remove the ring, but the whispers became words. Dark, painful words that stayed her hand.
The heave weight over her lifted ever so slightly and before her very eyes, the barn floor and all the dwarves disintegrated and were replace with black stones. Marie wanted to let out a squeak but no sound came out. She watched with a mixture of horror and awe as if by some random spell had spirited her away to an ancient castle ruins. She was sitting on what looked like a long broken bridge between the towers, her new surroundings of stone walls, or what remained of them, stretched up into looming towers worn by the passage of time. Iron spikes climbed the walls in the place of weeds and Marie thought she could smell death in the air. She rolled over onto her side and found herself staring down into a large cavern that went deep into the earth. She could make out the dim flicker of lights from within the depths and the creatures lurking beneath.
Marie braced a hand on the stone, but pulled away. She had felt a pulse under her hands, and under her feet. Everywhere she touched there was sickening pulsation, like the fortress was alive.
A lone figure approached her from somewhere deep in the ruins. Marie squinted and tried to see who it was but the wisps and shadows made it difficult for her to make just who. But the harder Marie focused, the more she came to regret doing so.
Azog the Defiler walked right up to her and stopped barely three feet from her quaking form. She thought she was done for but remembered that none could see her.
Azog stood waiting for something.
'Why is he here? And more importantly why am I? And where is here?'
The pulsing beneath her quickened its pace and a black shadow pulled itself out of cracks and dark passages into the cavern and present itself Azog. Marie thought she could see the outline of a man at its centre, but then nothing could be as it seemed.
"We grow in number," The shadow said, "We grow in strength." It was a terrible voice that spoke, husky and coarse with age, "You will lead my armies"
"What of Oakenshield?" Azog asked.
The shadow shifted around the giant orc, "War is coming."
This displeased Azog, "You promised me his head!"
Marie was at a loss. What was this war the shadow spoke of and Oakenshield? What part was Thorin's death to play in this plan? The shadow suddenly dispersed and advanced on Azog, and Marie. She panicked and tried in vain to pull the ring off, but her hands shook in terror. "Death comes to all. Oakenshield will fall with the East." Came a thousand whispers as the shadow passed over and Marie's hand began to burn like fire. Her eyes closed as the voices repeated, "Death comes to all."
Maire felt her heart freeze over.
She gasped wildly for air and opened her eyes. Azog was gone, and the cold ruins. She had returned to the skin changer's house, like she had never left at all.
Or had she?
She could not recall getting the ring off, but all the same it was there, sitting squarely in the palm of her shaking hand like she had never put it on. She quickly put it back into her pocket.
Beads of sweat ran down her neck as she evened out her ragged breathes but hunching over her knees. She felt so cold.
A hand touched her shoulder and she let out a tiny yelp. She scrambled to face her supposed attacker and came face to face with Thorin, awake and upright.
"Easy." It was more of a command than anything, but his hand never left her shoulder. "Calm yourself."
Marie did so, slowly until it did not hurt to breathe. She wiped away the sweat on her forehead and pulled her wild hair off her face. "Don't you ever sleep?" She hissed.
"It is hard to find rest when there is a hobbit thrashing about you next to you." Thorin said, removing his hand.
"I do believe that was sarcasm I just heard. I was not 'thrashing about' at all."
"You were. Shaking like a fever had taken you, I could feel it."
Marie's mouth went dry and she worried he had seen her little disappearing/reappearing act, but he did not look at her suspiciously. "I ... I was only dreaming." She said. 'Yes, dreaming.'
"Are you all right now?"
"Yes I am. Thank you." Marie paused as another question came to mind. "Thorin why is ...?" She stopped herself when she remembered what she was asking.
Thorin's head gave a small tilt, "What? Speak your mind Marie." He might not be happy if she did.
"Why is Azog hunting you?"
Thorin's expression turned grim at the mention of his foe's name. His balled up his fist, crushing the hay that had been caught between his fingers, "No doubt he seeks to finish what he started in ending the line of Durin, and recompense for his cursed arm."
"I understand the reason why, but why now?" Marie tried to make the question clearer. "Why after so many years does he hunt you now? Did you ever think that ... maybe someone else ...?"
"Why would you suspect such a thing?" Thorin asked.
"I just ... never mind." Marie pulled the green blanket back over her lower half. She was still so very cold. "It was a dream."
"A dream about Azog." The dwarf huff, "Must have been a nightmare."
"Aye." Marie turned her gaze back to Thorin, "A nightmare"
She wanted to believe it had been a dream, otherwise the shadow's words held more sinister tones than Marie wanted.
'Oakenshield will fall with the East.'
The seed of fear had been planted in Marie's heart.
"Marie, what is...?" Thorin never finished the question, for a long rattle came from the second barn door. Marie and Thorin looked over at the moonlight now streaming in from the opened door.
"Get down." Thorin took hold of Marie's arm again and pushed her own into the hay. She did not resist and folded herself up to appear smaller. Thorin's grip tightened as his leaned over her, watching for the intruder. His black hair fell across her face and Marie had to stop herself from flinching from his abrupt closeness.
What would her relatives back home say to this, being held by a strange dwarf as she lay there in the dark? Her aunts would be on the verge of fits.
She focused on the large man that slowly entered. His heavy breathing sounding like the grunts of an over worked dog. None of the animals minded this behemoth of a man, in fact Marie saw the goats flocking around his fur covered legs.
This must have been Beorn.
Marie raised her head slightly to get a better look, but only succeeded in scraping her temple along Thorin's jaw. The dwarf did not falter, and kept his eyes fixed on Beorn even with Marie squirming beneath him.
"Keep still." He breathed, "We can not be sure what he will do."
Marie buried her face in her arm and shut her eyes tightly. She did not know how long she stayed like that until sleep finally came for her, but this she was certain of. Thorin kept a hold of her until she was lost to her dreams, and that the cold in her heart had faded.