- Chapter 13 -
Shyloh questioned herself the entire way up to Bilbo's hobbit hole, wondering why she was doing this again. She waited for the alarms to go off in her head, telling her to run back to Rivendell while she still had the chance, but they never went off. Did Elrond know what was happening? Had Gandalf filled him in when he pulled her away from Rivendell? If so, why hadn't Elrond stopped her?
She walked slowly, unable to keep herself from enjoying the peacefulness of the Shire despite her plaguing thoughts. Night surrounded her as she went, passing lit windows with their shades pulled, the light sound of little voices coming from inside the homes breaking the stillness of the air around her.
Envy filled her as she recognized the sound of laughter as she slowly passed one home and she remembered once again that she was without family. Touching the chain of the necklace she wore, she was suddenly jealous of the laughter. How she missed her home and family! Four years in Arda had done little to quell the longing she felt for the ones she missed so much.
No! she thought, shaking her head. She wasn't going to allow herself to think about them. They were gone and there was nothing she could do about it.
She met no one on her walk and when she reached the small picket fence she gently opened and closed it behind her. With a deep breath, she calmed her nerves as she stepped up the little stairs, taking them two at a time until she came to the landing. The lamps inside were lit and loud, ruckus voices came from inside.
Oh, seriously, what was she getting herself into? She didn't do stuff like this, especially with people she barely knew. What kind of skills could she possibly have that other, more experienced elves didn't? Before she could turn back, she knocked on the door, silently wishing it wouldn't open. What if Gandalf wasn't here? What if the dwarves turned down her help? What if she had to ride back to Rivendell by herself?
Then suddenly, the door opened and Bilbo's exasperated face peered out from inside the home. His curly sand colored hair looked a mess, and he had pulled on suspenders and trousers over his night shirt. Feet still bare and hairy, he looked at her gloomily.
"More guests," he grumbled irritably but his eyes softened a little as they looked at her. She offered him a halfhearted smile just as Gandalf's face bowed down and into view.
"Come in, come in," the wizard said, opening the door wider for her.
She had to crouch down to enter, not really realizing just how short Hobbit houses exactly were. Inside, she found it to be a bit more comfortable since she wasn't quite as tall as the wizard. She found to her surprise, that she could stand up straight without hitting her head on the vaulted ceiling. The door frames though, were as low as her shoulders. The home was much more impressive than she could have imagined.
Everything about it screamed 'homey,' from the many comfortable looking chairs to the pillows, to the large fireplaces and shelves filled with books and nick-knacks.
Bilbo stared up at her before a chorus of loud, cheery cries came from another room and he began to grow impatient again.
"I don't understand what they're doing in my house!" the Hobbit cried and then suddenly Shyloh understood.
The dwarves must be in the other room, obviously just as uninvited like she was, and from the sound of it they were throwing quite the party.
"It is quite a merry gathering if I may say so myself," Gandalf said happily but the hobbit looked completely out of sorts and he gave the wizard a foul look.
"They've pillaged the pantry, tracked mud all over the carpet. I'm not even going to tell you what they've done in the bathroom; they've all but destroyed the pluming!" Bilbo shook with anger. "My apologies my Lady, I just – wasn't expecting guests. I've never had an elf in my home before."
She couldn't help but smile at him but found herself at a loss for words because just then, a short blond haired dwarf came walking into the hall, his arms swinging by his side as if he were on a mission. He had a braided mustache that dangled from both sides of his face and wore thick, heavy looking boots that clunked on the polished floors of Bilbo's home.
"What's all the commotion Gan...dalf?" The dwarf sputtered the wizards name as his eyes fell on Shyloh. His happy face dropped instantly when he recognized her as an elf. She wondered if she should have left her hair down instead of pinning the top of it back, exposing her ears. Then his eyes clouded over just as he was joined by other dwarves who filed in behind him.
Their eyes took in the she-elf that stood before them with her long white hair cascading down around her in waves of curls. Her piercing blue eyes were set inside a fair oval face and for a moment as they stared, they were the quietest they had been since arriving at Bilbo's. She wore her dark brown leggings and tall boots with a blue tunic that matched the color of her eyes almost perfectly; weapons slung over her shoulder casually. She stared at them wide eyed in return, unsure of what to make of them. She'd never met dwarves before.
Then, one of the taller dwarves pushed his way through the crowd, his bald tattooed head setting him apart from the others.
"An elf!" he growled, eyes narrowing as he glared at her as angry and confused muttering started up among his companions.
"Very good observation Master Dwalin," Gandalf said, the merry tone of his voice echoing off the walls of the room. "Yes, she is an elf and you are a dwarf, and Master Bilbo here is a hobbit. I myself am a wizard. Now that we have that settled, I think it best to adjourn to the other room while we wait for the rest of our company."
"No one said anything about an elf coming," Dwalin growled, his beady eyes shifting between the elf and wizard.
"No one said anything about dwarves coming either," muttered Bilbo to her right. She tried to hide a smile as she caught the hobbits eye but he just looked even more nervous under her gaze.
"Does Thorin know?" the blond dwarf asked, eyeing her suspiciously.
At that, Gandalf shifted awkwardly on his feet. He didn't have time to answer though, because a heavy knock pounded on the door behind him.
"He's here," the wizard said quietly. A hush seemed to flow over the hall at Gandalf's announcement and she gave the wizard a nervous look. Who was here, and who was Thorin?
Turning around, Gandalf opened the door.
"Gandalf," a heavy voice said. "I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way; twice. Wouldn't have found it if it hadn't been for that mark on the door." Boot steps entered the hall then, echoing in the quiet.
"Mark? There is no mark on that door, it was painted a week ago!" Bilbo cried, clearly insulted.
"There is a mark," the wizard said calmly as he closed the door behind the important looking dwarf. "I put it there myself."
"Is this the hobbit then?" the dwarf asked, oblivious to Shyloh standing off to the side. His eyes swept over Bilbo as if assessing him. "He looks more like a grocer than a burglar."
Bilbo stiffened and Shyloh narrowed her eyes. She didn't know who this dwarf was but she already didn't like him.
"Can you fight? What's your weapon of choice; ax or..." the dwarf came to a sudden halt as he circled the poor Hobbit, as his eyes fell on to Shyloh. Instantly his face grew dark and anger flashed in his eyes.
She felt herself tense up, her last few years of training flooding her mind as she thought he might attack her. While the dwarf's eyes looked furious, he stood rooted to the spot.
"What is an elf doing here?" The tone of his voice sounded just like a deep growl that you might hear come out of a wild animal before it struck its prey. It was dangerous and unforgiving and it made her shiver despite the warmth of the home she stood in.
She glared at him, disliking him even more. It was Gandalf that broke the silence and from the corner of her eye she saw the wizard shift in front of the door, as if to prevent anyone from escaping. She knew that dwarves and elves didn't get along, but the hatred that emulated off of him was oppressing, and his companions stared at her with disdain.
Yup, she should have turned around when she had the chance.
"Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, I would like you to meet my friend and companion on this journey: Shyloh." She noticed how Gandalf hadn't introduced her like Elrond had to the Lothlorien party so long ago and she wondered why that was.
His introduction didn't do anything to the tension that was steadily building in the small hall though, and Bilbo shifted uncomfortably beside her, unsure of what to make of it all.
"Your companion?" Thorin said without taking his eyes off of her. She didn't back down from his gaze, no matter how awful it was, and stared right back into his deep brown eyes.
"I believe it would be best for us to sit down and discuss this appropriately. I have asked Shyloh to join us tonight for a reason and I think it would be wise for you to hear me out before you cast judgments." Gandalf's eyes grazed everyone in the hall, including Shyloh, as he spoke.
Slowly, heads turned to their obvious leader as if looking for guidance. As if the battle within him deflated, Thorin relaxed his stance and nodded his head, agreeing to Gandalf's suggestion. One by one, the dwarves filed from the room, heading back down the hall. Once Thorin had followed, albeit reluctantly, Gandalf gave a heavy sigh, sagging his shoulders and caught her eye. She returned his gaze with a cold look.
"How's your plan working so far?" she hissed to him as she turned to follow after Bilbo, ducking her head under the rounded arches of the door frames.
He let out an exasperated sound before following behind her and they came to a long and narrow room. The thirteen dwarves seemed to fill it up, leaving poor Bilbo to stand in the hallway with Shyloh as Gandalf slid onto a long bench on Thorin's left side.
The rest of the company must have eaten already, because they passed a bowl of hot soup to their leader and a mug of what smelled like ale. They offered Shyloh nothing, and she couldn't have cared less.
She sank down in one of the comfortable looking chairs just outside the room, setting her weapons on the ground next to her feet as she did. Bilbo gave her another uncomfortable look but didn't sit down. Instead, he paced nervously while Thorin ate his meal. The other dwarves were unnaturally quiet until he was almost finished.
"What news from the meeting in Ered Luin? Did they all come?" asked a white haired dwarf. His beard was almost as white as Shyloh's hair and it looked like it could have easily been tucked inside the thick belt at his waist.
"Aye, leaders from all seven kingdoms came," Thorin said, and there was a muttering of approval that followed.
"And what did the dwarves of the Iron Hills say?" asked Dwalin calmly. "Are they staying with us?"
Thorin seemed to hesitate a little before answering. "They will not help us. They say this quest is ours, and ours alone."
Disapproval rang out in the mutters now as some of the dwarves shook their heads.
"You're...going on a quest?" Bilbo asked in a small voice.
"Bilbo, my dear fellow, let us have a little more light," Gandalf said, and he started to rummage around in his robes as if looking for something.
Bilbo, looking slightly flustered, hurried about in another room, coming back with another lit candle. He set it on the table between Thorin and Gandalf as the wizard laid flat a worn piece of parchment. From where Shyloh was sitting, she could see a mountain had been drawn on its surface with strange markings she didn't recognize. She recognized the names of Esgaroth and Dale and in the top corner a dragon had been inked in red.
"Far to the east lies a single, solitary peak," Gandalf began, indicating to the paper in front of him.
"The Lonely Mountain," muttered Bilbo.
"It is time!" cried a dwarf halfway down the room. "Oin has read the fortense and the fortense say it is time! Ravens have been seen going back to the mountain."
Loud muttering erupted throughout the dining hall until Thorin's voice cut through, silencing them all.
"Do you think others will not have read these signs too? The dragon Smaug has not been seen in sixty years. Perhaps the vast wealth of the mountain lays unprotected. Do we leave it unguarded, or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor!"
Cries of approval rang out but they were quickly shot down again as the gray haired dwarf spoke.
"You'll remember the front gate is sealed! There is no way to enter the mountain."
"That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true," said Gandalf calmly and his fingers twisted in midair, revealing a large and heavy looking key that was as long as his thin fingers.
"How came you by this?" asked Thorin, his eyes growing wide with astonishment.
"It was given to me by Thrain, for safe keeping," the wizard said with a soft smile. He passed the key to Thorin as the hall grew quiet, none of the dwarfs daring to believe their eyes.
"If there is a key," the blond dwarf said suddenly, his voice filled with wonder. "Then there must be a door."
His brother to the left of him smiled eagerly. "There's another way in!"
"Well if we can find it!" said Gandalf. "You'll remember dwarf doors are invisible when closed. The answer lies somewhere hidden in this map and I do not have the skill to find it. But, there are those in Middle Earth, that can."
"I will not seek the aid of elves," hissed Thorin, shooting Shyloh a disgruntled look. She met his gaze with a blank expression, not giving him the satisfaction of knowing he insulted her kin.
What she really wanted to do, was knock his head upside the table but Gandalf gave her a warning look as Thorin turned back to the company.
"If you'll remember we have a wizard in our company," spoke the handsome dark haired young dwarf in the back. "Gandalf will have killed hundreds of dragons in his time."
Excited voices began speaking at once but Gandalf looked like he paled a little as he coughed on his pipe smoke.
"Er...well..." the wizard fumbled for words but was saved.
"The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us, but we number just thirteen," Balin stated clearly. "And not thirteen of the best...or brightest."
At that, Shyloh smiled.
Irritated grumbles protested at the older dwarfs words before another spoke loudly.
"That's why we need a burglar," a dwarf at the end of the room said eagerly, his youthful appearance clearly marking him as the youngest of the bunch.
"Humph! And a good one I'd imagine," said Bilbo as he looked down at the map on the table.
"And are you?" another dwarf asked, and the hall quieted down.
Bilbo looked completely taken by surprise. "Me? No, no, I've never stolen a thing in my life."
"I'm afraid I have to agree with Master Baggins," said Balin reluctantly. "He's hardly burglar material."
"Aye," said Dwalin. "The wilds are no place for folk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves." His eyes shifted to Shyloh and she met his gaze with a glare, knowing fully that the comment was directed at her, too.
Grumbling grew among the dwarves but then the room suddenly seemed to darken and the flames of the candles flickered as if a breeze floated through.
"If I say Bilbo Baggins is a burglar, then a burglar he is!" The wizard's voice forced the dwarves to grow silent and retreat a little from his tall, darkening stance. "Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet. And while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of dwarf, the smell of hobbit will be unfamiliar to him giving us a distinct advantage."
Thorin didn't look convinced though, and he leaned forwards in his seat, fixing the wizard with a look.
"I need you to trust me on this," Gandalf told him. After a moment of silence, the kingly dwarf nodded slowly.
"Alright Gandalf," Thorin said, then turned to Balin. "Give him a contract."
Bilbo looked bewildered as a thick, folded envelope was handed to him. "Just covers the usual, travel expenses, funeral arrangements..."
The Hobbits eyes scanned the pages as he opened them up, his eyes narrowing as he read out loud. "Funeral arrangements?...seems fair...lacerations? Incineration?"
"Aye, they'll melt the skin right off your bones," said another dwarf almost cheerfully.
Bilbo's jaw dropped as he glanced back at the pages before him, clearly speechless.
"Are you alright laddie?" asked Balin but Bilbo had turned his back and started pacing.
"Think furnace with wings. A breath of hot air and then poof! You're nothing more than a pile of ashes." Bofur's tone held a playful edge to it but Bilbo wasn't laughing at this at all.
Shyloh watched him with concern etched into her eyes. The poor hobbit!
Then he went still, frozen in place as he took deep steadying breaths then all of a sudden he said, "Nope," and fell backwards to the ground, fainting.
"Well done Bofur," grumbled Gandalf as he leaned over to check on Bilbo.
"And what of the elf?" Thorin asked, paying the hobbit no mind as Gandalf reached a hand down to tap Bilbo's cheek. The dwarves all turned to look at her and she felt her face pale a little under their watchful eyes. Not a single one of them trusted her, and she couldn't say she didn't feel the same about them.
"Shyloh's skills with a bow and blade will be most useful to us, not to mention she is a skilled healer," Gandalf said quickly, drawing his attention back to the table. His gaze was piercing and dared anyone of them to challenge him on it. Thorin, however, wasn't going to be easily persuaded.
"I would not trust an elf to go on this quest with us. This mission is for dwarves and dwarves alone." Thorin's eyes narrowed again but he did not look at her as he spoke. Heads of his company bobbed in agreement and murmurs followed suit.
"She will be more useful that you think," Gandalf insisted, his tone sharp. "And in case your memory is slow to recall, you just employed the services of a hobbit into your company, not to mention myself. It will be good to have her along."
Wait, did Gandalf really expect her to go to Erebor with a bunch of dwarves? She only thought he needed her help at the moment; to help convince the dwarves to take back their home, not to travel across the world with them to help fight a dragon. What skills did she have in that area? Her mind buzzed. There was no way she heard him correctly.
"You seriously want me to come along?" her voice cut through the grumbling talk that was going on, and they quieted down at her sudden question. "You never said anything about having to go to Erebor, much less with this lot!"
Gandalf let out an exasperated sigh. "Of course I mean for you to come along! I would not have brought you here if I did not think you would be best suited for the job."
"Why did you choose her? She's small for an elf, and looks much too young," Thorin said, sliding her a distrustful look out of the corner of his eye.
"She is quick with a blade, excellent with a bow, and will understand your mission better than you can imagine," Gandalf explained as he looked at her. She felt like he was describing a car in a parking lot; selling her to the dwarves with the best sales pitch he could muster and it angered her. She wasn't a car, nor was she for sale.
Just how exactly did Gandalf think she could relate to their mission? The question formed on her tongue but Gandalf wasn't finished.
"You trusted me with finding our burglar, and I think Bilbo Baggins will do just fine," Gandalf's eyes fell on the still passed out hobbit hesitantly. "And frankly we could use all the help we can get. Having an elf along will give us a distinct advantage. Besides, your qualms against elves lie not with her, for she did not walk the earth at the time, though she is much older than you think."
Wow Gandalf, she thought, raising her eyebrows at his words, cryptic enough? Just tell them my whole damn story while your at it!
She ground her teeth together and with the look she was giving Gandalf the wizard knew there would be a discussion between them both later. For now, Thorin pondered the wizards words carefully before he turned to look at her.
"She may come. Give her a contract," he said finally, but his tone was not very welcoming. "But she is your responsibility, as is the hobbit."
Shyloh narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms in front of her. "What the hell was all that about?" she demanded after the dwarves had finally fallen asleep for the night. They were scattered around Bilbo's home taking up couches, empty beds, lying on bedrolls on the floor, and anywhere else they could find comfort. The two of them stood outside in the darkness of the night, just a short ways away from Bilbo's front door so they wouldn't be over heard.
Gandalf gave her an exasperated look. "If I had told you why I really wanted you to come with me to the Shire, you would not have done so willingly. Nor would Elrond have allowed it. I wanted you to understand what was at stake here."
"You told them I was coming along, but I haven't agreed to anything Gandalf, and I certainly haven't signed anything." She waved the folded contract in the air in front of her. "What do I know about fighting a dragon? Not to mention the fact that they hate me! And no offense but they're not exactly the kind of company I can expect to have my back if we pick a fight with the wrong crowd. They'll leave me to be skinned and hanged in the snap of their fat little fingers."
He sighed heavily and shook his head. "My dear, you can relate the most to what they will be doing."
"How? In case you've forgotten, though I was born thousands of years ago I have only walked this earth for four years! That hardly makes me qualified to help reclaim a homeland. There are other elves that are more qualified. Pick one of them!"
"Think back to the story about how the dwarves lost their home. Remember what I told you about Thorin's grandfather?"
She thought for a quick moment. "He died in battle."
"Well yes, but my point is he suffered from dragon sickness. It is a disease of the mind that consumed him. It's a dark and fierce love of gold. Dragon sickness runs in Thorin's family, and affects anyone who gets too close to that mountain. The wealth and riches inside are beyond anything you could imagine. Your job, while it will be aiding in the protection of the company, will be to be a beacon of light and hope on this mission. To remind them that they are fighting for their home, not for the gold within. To remind them that their love for their families and friendship is worth more than all the gold in Erebor."
"To keep the dragon sickness at bay? You honestly think I can do that? You want me to dive back into the pain of losing my entire family in a single split second, to help a bunch of dwarves remember the fact that family and friends are more important?"
"You're starting to sound like an elf, not the woman I know that will be able to accomplish such a feat. You have no reason to hold a grudge against the dwarves, they have done nothing to you, and you nothing to them. They will see that eventually. You were raised in the world of Men, not Elves, and that will another advantage because you were not raised to dislike them. Plus," Gandalf smiled at her then. "your warm smile and charming personality will be most welcomed."
"A rose between the thorns."
"Precisely."