Chapter 4
I came upon the company that were in a line on their ponies. I noticed that we were missing one certain member as I pulled Shathûr to walk next to Gandalf's own horse at the front with Thorin behind him. "Aren't we missing someone?" I inquired.
Before he could answer, Nori yelled up to me. "Did you expect him to come?" he queried incredulously.
I turned to look over my shoulder at him with a raised eyebrow at his tone. "I do," I declared. "Despite his unwillingness to join last night, I believe Bilbo will come with us and be a great asset to us in the future."
"Care to put money on that lassie?" Nori offered with a slight grin as he made his pony come up beside me.
"How much are we betting with?" I countered with a smirk.
"Ten gold coins on either side," he answered easily.
"Then I'll put ten gold coins that Bilbo shows up," I told him with a smirk. Nori nodded and dropped back down the line to speak with his brothers. I turned to Gandalf who was smiling at me. "I assume that you made the same wager as well?"
Gandalf chuckled and winked at me. "Of course, I did."
I laughed lightly, before my hearing picked up a voice calling for us in the distance. I recognized it as Bilbo's voice, and I stopped Shathûr to wait. This caused Gandalf and Thorin to stop and look at me; Gandalf with raised eyebrows in a silent question and Thorin in aggravation. Thorin opened his mouth to say something, but I raised a finger to my lips and smirked before looking over my shoulder behind us.
"Wait! Wait!"
The rest of the company stopped and looked to see Bilbo, now in a traveling coat and pack on his back, running towards us. He was waving the contract around above his head so we could see it and came to a stop next to Balin's pony, a little out of breath. "I signed it," he said, trying to catch his breath.
He gave the contract to Balin, who took out an eye glass to get a closer look at it. "Everything appears to be in order," Balin announced, as he put the contract away, and looked back to Bilbo with a smile. "Welcome, Master Baggins, to the company of Thorin Oakenshield."
The others cheered for this, but I noticed that Thorin looked rather annoyed. I let out a small sigh at this. Thorin had always judged people from the moment he sees them and the first talk. He never could see the potential or the skill that they would have; he was just that stubborn. "Give him a pony," he instructed gruffly.
Bilbo instantly looked alarmed. "No, no, no, no. That…That won't be necessary. Thank you. I'm sure I can keep up on foot. Yeah, I…I've done my fair share of walking holidays, you know? Even got as far as Frog Morton once."
He then let out a shout as we all started moving again. Looking behind me, I watched with an amused smile as Fili and Kili had picked up Bilbo and put him on one of the ponies. As he got settled, I pulled Shathûr up beside him as Gandalf came to his other side. I noticed how tense he was and was holding the reigns too close to his chest. His pony, Myrtle, neighed and shook her head in annoyance.
'I was right,' I thought with a small smile. 'This will be amusing.'
I reached over and pulled his hand down to his lap. Bilbo looked to me in confusion. Smiling, I straightened my posture and gestured with my hands. "You need to relax," I told him. "If you're tense and scared, your pony will sense it. That's a good way to get thrown."
Bilbo looked apprehensively down at Myrtle, and then back at me. I made a motion to take a deep breath and to relax his shoulders. He did so and he smiled at me in thanks.
I nodded back as Oin called up to Nori, "Come on, Nori! Pay up!"
The dwarves started to toss money back and forth while Bilbo looked confused. "What's that about?"
Gandalf looked amused as he answered. "Oh, they took wagers on whether or not you'd turn up. Most of them bet that you wouldn't."
"And what did you two think?" Bilbo asked, looking between Gandalf and me.
"Well…" Gandalf started before the both of us caught two sacks of coins. "My dear fellow, I never doubted you for a second."
Bilbo then sneezed, and he started to try and play it off, searching his pockets. "Oh, it's horsehair. Having a reaction." He then looked distressed. "Uh… wait, wait! Stop! Stop! We have to turn around."
Everyone stopped and turned to him, and Gandalf looked exasperated. "What on earth is the matter?" he asked.
"I forgot my handkerchief," Bilbo answered quickly.
"Here!" Bofur called and ripped the bottom of his shirt off. Holding it up, he then tossed it back to Bilbo. "Use this."
Bilbo caught it and looked at it as if he couldn't tell if Bofur was serious. The dwarves laughed as Thorin called, "Move on!"
The line moved forward again, and I moved to take the piece of cloth from Bilbo. I put it away in my pack and pulled out a clean light blue handkerchief from a side pocket. "Here," I said. "You can use this one instead."
"Thank you," he said gratefully. "I'll be sure to return it."
I smiled at him, but Gandalf interrupted me. "You'll have to manage without pocket handkerchiefs, and a good many other things, Bilbo Baggins, before we reach our journey's end," he explained. "You were born to the little rivers of the Shire. But home is now behind you. The world is ahead."
Bilbo looked a little sad as he glanced back over his shoulder towards the Shire. I felt like I should cheer him up somehow. "You can keep it," I spoke suddenly. Bilbo gave me a questioning look. "The handkerchief, you can keep it."
"Oh no, I couldn't," Bilbo protested, shaking his head.
"Yes, you can," I told him, firmly. "And you will. Think of it as a token for your first journey from home."
Bilbo looked hesitant. "Are you sure?"
I gave him a smile and nod. "Very sure. It's a tradition in my family that we give a gift to the one that is traveling when they leave home for the first time. We give them something so that they know they have something to come back to. To remind them they have a place in this world."
Bilbo seemed to contemplate this while putting the cloth in his breast pocket. "Is that what your parents did?" he asked hesitantly. I stiffened in my saddle and glanced at him with a blank expression. "They gave you a handkerchief for your first journey?"
"My father gave me a dagger when I first left home," I told him, unsure why I was telling him this. "He wanted me to be able to come back home, and to protect myself. My mother gave me my cloak. She was a seamstress and wanted me to be warm until I returned."
Bilbo looked curious. "Do all of your family do that?"
I chuckled, thinking of my father's side of the family. "No, not all. Just my mother's side. My grandfather made the corset that I wear, and my grandmother was actually the one who gave me Shathûr."
"Really?" Bilbo wondered.
I smiled as I looked over at him and patted Shathûr's neck. "The point of the girts are the things that will help us return and a memento of the family member who gave it. My grandmother gave me Shathûr so that I had a companion on my travels."
Bilbo raised an eyebrow in curiosity, but before he could say anything, Kili and Fili pulled their horses up on either side of us. "She really gave you a horse for a companion?" Kili asked incredulously with a smirk.
Shathûr didn't take too kindly to that comment and snorted with quite a few whines to follow. The other's looked curiously over at us at the amount of noise he was making, and Kili looked rather startled. I just leaned over in the saddle and reached over to rub and pat his neck. "Shh, it's alright Shathûr," I soothed. "He is a young dwarf. He doesn't truly mean it. I know you are my best companion and my dearest friend."
Shathûr huffed but stopped making noise. I turned a smile to the confused Durin brothers. "Shathûr's father is a Mearas, which makes him a descendant. I have found that he has the intelligence of the Mearas and can understand us very well."
"If I didn't hear that myself, then I wouldn't have believed it," Kili admitted.
"Just do watch what you say around him," I told him with a smile.
*Dragonscale*
Gandalf and I managed to convince Thorin to stop at Bree for some last minute supplies, however reluctantly he agreed, and one last night in a bed. We continued the next few weeks in a pattern. Ride for hours, camp from lunch, ride until nightfall, camp for the night and have breakfast in the morning; then repeat.
I never seemed to get bored though. Bilbo had a never ending stream of questions that he wanted to ask me about my travels. A few of the dwarves and Gandalf would drift in and out of our conversations; although Kili, Fili and Balin were the most frequent. The only ones who didn't were Dwalin and Thorin. I often caught Dwalin giving me a suspicious stare, but there was some kind of hope there.
Dwalin and I had a brother-sister relationship back in Erebor. We would spar quiet often and give each other tips. I knew that he was the one to recognize me by my sword. My dragonling sword, Zorath, was something that I had talked with Dwalin about. I knew that he was staring to put the pieces together, but I knew that he wouldn't say anything to me. Dwalin would probably bring his suspicions to Thorin, but Thorin will be too stubborn to listen though.
Although, Thorin is staring a lot as well. I have caught him staring many times with a look of uncertainty. He looked like he can't decide on whether he wanted to approach me about it. But he never does. He has kept many of our talks to a minimum and talking only about the quest or hunting for food with Kili.
I found that Kili was quiet the archer. He could shoot rather well, and we both gave each other tips on tracking and shooting. He and his brother were both the most mischievous pair of dwarves that I had ever met. I knew their mother and she wasn't even this reckless.
Currently, I sat on a branch in the trees that surrounded our campsite for the night. Below me, Kili and Fili were next to the fire beside a large rock fixture, keeping watch. Gandalf was the only other one awake, sitting at the base of the tree I was in. I held a cloth that I had purchased in Bree and was sewing in to fit Bilbo. I had noticed that he only brought a coat and, unfortunately, that would not protect him well against rain or snow.
Speaking of the little hobbit, I noticed that he couldn't sleep through Brombur's snoring. He had gotten up to give Myrtle an apple.
I smiled softly at him, before it quickly fell after hearing a loud screech. I put the cloak down on the branch, and quickly climbed down as Bilbo asked the Durin brothers what the sound was. Running over to the edge of the cliff we were on, I glanced around the ridge line across from us. The sound was from somewhere nearby, I was sure of it. Behind me, the young dwarves were trying to scare Bilbo.
I frowned and was about to turn back around, to chastise them, but Thorin beat me to it. "You think a night raid by orcs is a joke?" he admonished.
"We didn't mean anything by it," Kili whispered dejectedly, and I looked over my shoulder to see the saddened look on his face.
"No, you didn't," Thorin growled as he walked over to where I stood. "You know nothing of the world.
Thorin reached me and quickly looked forward, scanning the tree line as I did. Thorin was silent as he stood next to me. While my eyes continued to watch the woods, my ears were listening to Balin as he spoke of the Battle of Azanulbizar.
"Don't mind him, laddie," Balin told the boy. "Thorin has more cause than most to hate orcs. After the dragon took the Lonely Mountain, King Thror tried to reclaim the ancient Dwarf kingdom of Moria. But our enemy had got there first. Moria had been taken by legions of Orcs, led by the most vile of all their race: Azog the Defiler. The giant Gundabad Orc had sworn to wipe out the line of Durin. He began by beheading the King. Thrain, Thorin's father, was driven mad by grief. He went missing. Taken prisoner or killed, we did not know."
I could feel my chest tightened at the knowledge of how King Thror died, as well as Prince Thrain. Despite what happened, I never blamed Thror. I did, however, blame the Gold Sickness that had claimed his mind. Thrain had only ever been kind to my parents and me. He was the one who had commissioned them both and offered to move my father and I into Erebor when my mother disappeared. I continued to listen to the story when Balin continued.
"We were leaderless," Balin continued. "Defeat and death were upon us. That is when I saw him. A young Dwarf prince facing down the pale Orc. He stood alone against this terrible foe. His armor rent, wielding nothing but an oaken branch as a shield. Azog the Defiler learned that day that the line of Durin would not be so easily broken. Our forces rallied and drove the orcs back. Our enemy had been defeated. But there was no feast, nor song that night, for our dead were beyond the count of grief. We few had survived.
"And I thought to myself then, there is one that I could follow. There is one I could call King."
I glanced over to Thorin as saw the pain and determination again in his eyes. I watched Thorin turn around to face the rest of the company and start walking back towards the fire.
"And the Pale Orc?" Bilbo asked. "What happened to him?"
"He slunk back into the hole whence he came," Thorin snapped. "That filth died of his wounds long ago."
I saw both Balin and Gandalf exchange a glance at that and that had me narrowing my eyes. Movement out of the corner of my eyes had me snapping my head to look at the ridge line again. I quickly whistled to Shathûr, and he came trotting over to me. Pulling myself onto his back, a few of the dwarves, Thorin included, came running over.
"What is it?" Thorin demanded.
"I saw movement across from us," I explained quickly. "After the earlier screech, I'm not willing to take any chances. Be ready to move."
With that, I urged Shathûr into a canter away from camp. I quickly reached the opposite ridge, seeing the camp across from me. Getting down from Shathu0301r, I found tracks in the dirt. They looked almost like a wolf's, but far larger. I knew the tracks of wargs anywhere. But that meant that orcs were not far behind. I didn't see any footprints, but that just meant they didn't leave their strides.
I mounted Shathûr again and retuned to camp. As I got there, Thorin approached me as I put my saddle back on Shathûr. "What did you see?" he asked.
"Warg prints," I informed him. "They were only a few minutes old. We should leave and be more cautious as we move forward."
Thorin nodded and turned around to give orders to leave. I went over to the tree that I was in and grabbed the cloak I had been working on. As the others finished loading up the ponies, I finished the last few stitches.
Smiling, I walked over to Bilbo before he got on Myrtle. "Bilbo," I said, and he looked over at me confused. I held out the cloak. "This is for you."
Bilbo looked shocked at the cloak as he took it. "Is this what you were working on?"
I nodded. "I noticed that you didn't have one. You'll need it for the weather we will be in."
Bilbo smiled softly as he put it on and seeing that it fit his size. "Thank you."
I smiled at him and patted his head. I went back to Shathûr and mounted, following the others as we began to move.
