Chapter 4 : Ghilda
Ghilda heard her own footsteps echo down the long hall. It had always disturbed her, how hollow her footsteps sounded. There was always this 'wrong feeling' she gets from time to time, ever since she and her brother had set foot in this dark place.
Her march stopped at the foot of the farthest door, in the westernmost end of the hall. It was where Kate was residing, for four days now. The poor man-child hadn't come out of the room for a day and a half straight, not that anybody wanted her to. But Ghilda pitied the girl, because she had looked miserable from the moment she set eyes on her.
"Kate! Kate, are you awake yet, child?"
The loud rapping on the door woke Kate up, but not that she was sleeping. She had been in a daze for hours now, and the voice outside, Ghilda's most definitely, stirred her from her trance-like position.
Ghilda knew the door wasn't locked, but she hesitated a moment before going in. Could the man-child still be weeping? She had the feeling the girl was more shocked at her current state than anybody else. There wasn't much to comfort her, cooped up and not exactly invited to their meals as she was. Perhaps, though she was a bit unsure, Kate would like a bit of music to cheer her up?
Kate frantically rubbed her eyes and cheeks, though she knew it was futile. She had been crying for hours now, and had been coughing and sniffing between sobs for hours still. It was a pathetic thing to do, but how do you expect her not to be wretched about the whole scenario? From the moment Smee was returned to her, Kate's mind melted into a confused puddle. Oh, she had paced that whole afternoon, when the shock hadn't yet registered.
She knew exactly where she was. She knew where Moria is; the dwarves said it was a mine, the books said it was a tomb… This was the worst nightmare she could ever have stumbled into, Kate thought bitterly. Why hadn't the Tolkien fairies of her subconscious bothered to drop her somewhere where there were goddamn ELVES instead!?
The day after she had regained consciousness felt like it was the worst day of her life. Part of why she hadn't as much as gone insanely mad yesterday was because she still had the vague hopings that this was all a dream. She had put all her confidence in this belief, and you could imagine how shattered she was when she woke up to find her surroundings hadn't changed a single bit.
"Kate, your cheeks!" Ghilda exclaimed as she rushed to the sniffling heap of limbs on the stone floor. "Get up, man-child! You'll catch your death!"
Kate stood up shakily. She couldn't resist snickering, at herself of course. Where did all that bravado go now that she finally got her DREAM LIFE? Where was the brave, dashing heroine of her childhood fantasies, who withstood the psychological trauma of being dumped (rather rudely) into another world the moment she sets foot on it? Who was this crying, filthy, uber-pathetic, uninvited guest that found herself inside a dwarf MINE, of all the places on Middle Earth!?
It was a good thing that she had removed her robe and sash. They were hanging on the chair she was now holding for support. Everything else was grimy and damp, like she had just been drenched in a bucket of tears.
Ghilda made a similar analogy, but she was none-too-pleased about it. Her charge was soaking wet, and those pale cheeks looked like they had been pinched a hundred times. She quickly went about tidying the man-child, and had already fixed a hot bath for her when Kate finally spoke.
"I'm sorry for the mess, Miss Ghilda. I can clean myself up now."
This immensely relieved the dwarf-woman, and she exited the bathroom.
When Kate emerged from the bath twenty minutes later, Ghilda had already laid out new clothes for her to wear. There was a burgundy shirt on the bed, with simple gold embroidery on its hem and sleeves. There was a pair of burgundy leggings that matched it and a pair of black woolly socks that reached above her knees. Kate pulled on a long black leather vest, and Ghilda helped her fasten its ornate little damask clasps. Finally, the dwarf helped her into a pair of dark brown long boots and Kate rolled her socks down to keep the cold from getting into the extra comfortable (though a bit too bulky) leather shoes.
"Thank you very much, Miss Ghilda," Kate said, after she finished dressing. "You've been so kind to me all this time."
The dwarf blushed and muttered a soft, "You're very welcome, Kate." Then, she tut-tutted for a while about Kate's crying for an entire day. The human girl didn't mind this, not bothering to acknowledge its blatant insensitivity. 'I guess dwarves are just like that,' she thought, looking elsewhere in the room. Smee immediately caught her eye, and she snatched him from the mess of pillows on her bed.
"You should get out some, Kate. It's not like you're a prisoner; those grumbling dwarves are just cold fishes, the lot!"
Ghilda's laugh was deep and throaty, and Kate was so warmed by its heartiness that she joined in. After a while, both girls settled down and Ghilda said, "I'm just sorry things have to be this way, but surely you know of the evil rising in the South? This has put a great strain on all the Free Peoples," then, here Ghilda seemed to grow reluctant…and even a little afraid, "and Lord Balin has more than his share of the troubles."
The atmosphere turned dreary all of a sudden, and to Kate, it felt like she was really trapped in a tomb. Had the orcs not yet invaded? Was it possible that they were already lurking in the dark recesses of the mines? Now that the bath had cleared Kate's mind, it was time to assess the situation and make the most out of it. But first, she had to find out one important thing.
"Miss Ghilda, may I know what date today is?"
The dwarf looked puzzled for a while before answering, "I suppose it's the fifth of Cermië, if my reckoning of your days serves me right." Ghilda took Kate's confusion as absent-mindedness, so she decided to add, "If you ought to know, it's a Wednesday, and we found you on a Sunday."
Ghilda might as well have been speaking in Russian. Kate tried another tactic and asked the dwarf-woman, "Well, maybe you know the Shire-reckoning?"
The dwarf's small eyes widened with surprise. "The calendar of the Shire? But what of this place you know? Mayhap you live there? You haven't told me much about yourself yet, you know!"
Kate winced inwardly at Ghilda's sudden eagerness. It was evidently hard to get by in this world without spilling the beans, but somehow she wanted to keep what she knew of how she really got here a secret, especially of what she knew of Middle Earth's—as unlikely as this sounds—near future.
"Er…yes, actually," came her reply, followed by a small, nervous laugh. Ghilda's eyes just widened more. "Then you must know of Mr. Baggins! Bilbo Baggins?" asked the very excited dwarf. Kate shrugged, hiding the fact that she was grappling for words. "Umm…yes," she finally answered. "The…adventurer who lives in Bag End?" "Yes! Exactly!" Ghilda nodded, suddenly child-like in her glee. "I have only met the honoured Halfling once, and that time was one very good memory. Lord Balin would regale us with tales of their adventures while we dine, and it was always with some funny song or dance. Did you know that Mr. Baggins had a nephew? Lord Balin had visited him last a many years back and the sprite was named Frodo."
"Erm…his nephew, yes," was Kate's hesitant reply.
"Well now, we must mention this at the banquet then," Ghilda said, smiling.
Kate froze. "Banquet? What banquet?" Ghilda ignored her and instead tut-tutted once more. She picked up the fur-lined coat draped on the chair and helped Kate slip into it. Then, she helped the girl tie its leather sash, while saying, "This will keep you comfortable. It has been a while since I last took up the needle, but I suppose these are serviceable, if not the latest of fashions."
"Can you please tell me what date is today, in Shire-reckoning?"
"Oh, yes!" Ghilda exclaimed with an apologetic tone. "It's the twenty-fifth of June, 3018, I believe, if my counting hasn't erred. A bleak summer, this one, but still cold as can be expected under the mountains."
This answer had a ton of meaning to Kate. She wasn't much of a fanatic of the books, but she knew enough to remember that this year was one of the most important years of the Third Age. There were a lot of things to think about, not to mention puzzle about. But all these, Kate decided, would be during the banquet.
Right now, looking at Ghilda's warm smile as the dwarf led her down the long corridors; it was enough to be grateful that she didn't fall into grimy orc hands.