She woke up, and a feeling of excitement filled her almost automatically. The sun was only just threatening to break through the flowery curtains in her parents house. Her little bedroom, that was neatly kept and only decorated with fairy lights and a large notice board, felt cold but that wouldn't stop her.
Sitting up and pulling her pastel duvet off, she threw her legs over the edge of the bed, and set her feet on the cold wood floor, dashing out of her room and across the corridor from her, into her parents room.
"It's my birthday!" She shouted as she burst through the door, and jumped onto the bed where her unsuspecting parents, were sound asleep.
"Happy birthday bacchi!" Her father reached out half asleep and patted her head.
"Happy birthday baby!" Her sleepy mother pulled her into a half hug. "Now go get some sleep…"
Knowing this was the exact same reaction she got each year, she rolled her eyes and began to slink off when she suddenly noticed her mothers face. Her eyes were puffy and dry slightly red, almost as if she had been crying…
"Mummy… are you… ok?" Shobha set her hand gently on her mother's cheek to watch her eyes flutter open briefly and then shut again, as she reached out once more reassuringly.
"Yup… now go, or you will be too tired to enjoy your own birthday dinner…"
Frowning at her mothers half certain reply, she slowly tiptoed back out of the room. It really was ridiculous-o-clock; even the heating hadn't kicked in yet!
As she gently shut the door, still buzzing from the excitement, she couldn't help but wonder about her mother...
"So where are we meeting your friends?" Her sister took a seat across from her with a cocktail.
She paused briefly, shrugging her shoulders.
"Its just us this time…"
"Shobha? It's your birthday! Really…?" Myra scowled. There was no attempt to hide her surprise. She had clearly attempted to slink out early once everyone else was here. "So you blew mum and dad off claiming you had invited friends… to be on your own?! Have you gone completely nuts?"
"Don't worry – I am meeting them for dinner this weekend." Shobha paused again before carrying on. "Haven't you noticed. Mum goes really quiet every year around my birthday….?"
She gave her sister a sporting chance to come clean with what she knew before pressing on. But Myra kept quiet, glancing down at her cocktail again, as if she would find refuge in the bottom of her glass.
"Shobha, I swapped an oncall to come tonight! And you're messing me about with all this psycho stuff?!"
"Everyone tries to be all normal about it - but I know. I'm not stupid –" she sipped her own concoction. It made her cough a little. "At least I'm not entirely stupid! Woof - that is strong!"
Her reaction made her sister laugh, softening her irritation a little.
"I just thought – maybe it reminds her of some sort of disappointment; you know, maybe they wanted a boy this time..." She shrugged. "This way she doesn't have to deal with that."
Myra rolled her eyes.
"That is not why – Ugh!" She took a big sip of her own cocktail and widened her eyes. "Yup. That does have a bit of a kick… I recon the bartender doesn't drink. Non drinkers usually make really strong cocktails!"
Shobha looked down into her own ultra sweet, sickly pink drink, that frankly burned her throat with every sip, now. Perhaps it was all futile, and her sister didn't know anything.
"God Shobha. I thought you were too self centred on your birthday to notice." She shook her head grumpily and downed the rest of her drink in one go. "You were always a light weight… and she's not disappointed. I was nine so I remember. She had several miscarriages before she got pregnant with you ok? They wanted a second child a lot. I think any healthy baby was great. They didn't care about what sex it was."
Suddenly her whole demeanour changed, as if she was recalling something quite painful.
"You can't say anything if I tell you. Mum and dad don't talk about with me either. It's their business. So don't stir up shit, just because you think everyone has to revolve around you on this day ok?" Myra groused. She didn't try to hide her annoyance at all.
Her sister was the polar opposite of her in every way. In fact, anyone would have not been able to even tell that they were sisters, unless they knew them! Myra was fair, with dark wavy hair, that hung dramatically around her shoulders, like some sort of ethnic Barbie doll. Even her features were a stark contrast, where Shobha had soft features and big eyes, Myra had sharp features and narrow, feline eyes. She was in no way ugly, but next to Myra she often felt it.
"So…?" She pushed again. If her sister knew something about it, she needed to tell her. "Promise I won't talk about it again."
"No one says anything, but I think mum was a little depressed that year, after another miscarriage. And then one day she went out to get some shopping… and disappeared for several hours… dad was looking after me, so he had to put on a brave face, but by nine o clock at night, she still wasn't home, and I could tell, he was totally worried. I mean frantic. He called the police. And Aunty Lalita had to come over and stay with me that night until dad drove around looking for her. It was like she had vanished off the face of the earth for a few hours…"
Shobha listed in utter shock, while her sister recalled what she knew, clearly attempting to keep out her own feelings from it all.
"And then they found her walking in the park, a bit dazed. She said she had been mugged, but everyone else kept saying thank goodness it was nothing else…" Myra stared at her empty glass, not wanting to make eye contact. "I saw her… she looked dazed, but otherwise she didn't look hurt. Our Doctor made a home visit, and said she was shocked, gave her sedatives – you know how they used to treat women, but she refused any examinations… but we all knew something had happened, she just never said anything. She was really quiet for a few weeks, sleeping all the time and then suddenly she was pregnant and that was it. Everything was forgotten – and never talked about. I don't even think dad knows everything."
"What do you mean that was it?"
"That was it. She was back to herself. Happy; thrilled about you… that was it." Myra looked up at her sharply. "You said you wouldn't push it if I told you what I knew!"
"Ok! Sorry! I just thought…" Shobha spun her glass with its stem. "What do you think happened? Do you think… she was assaulted… that I am not…"
"Oh God! Seriously stop it Shobha." She rolled her eyes. "No. I don't think mum was assaulted – and you look as ugly as dad! So relax!"
She laughed at Shobha, shaking her head, attempting to reassure her in a strange dismissive way. At the time, Shobha had felt a strange uneasiness, but had decided to bury the whole thing. After all there must have been so many children who were adopted or conceived as a result of infidelity, living perfectly happy lives and completely oblivious to their parentage, even if they had some sort of idea about it.
The two sisters had spent the evening having dinner, and ended the night early. Myra had made an excuse about an early morning at work, and Shobha had been grateful to avoid any immediate awkwardness after everything she had heard.
But it seemed that both sisters had made an unspoken pact never to discuss the matter again… their relationship returned to what they always had. They were never so close, but they were family.
And then just like the flick of a switch she was back from her twentieth birthday to present day, except she was no longer in Rivendell….
She stood on something cold and hard, but it didn't matter, she couldn't see; everything around her was smothered by a thick fog! It was so thick, the very air felt thick and heavy, as though she were drowning. There was something dark – something wrong about the very essence of this place – wherever she found herself.
Her hand instinctively reached for her stomach, in an attempt to protect her unborn child.
"Join me."
A voice resonated around her. The sound passing through her entire being, as though it were a shock wave.
"The war begins. The East bows to me, now. And the Kingdom of Angmar, will rise."
She looked around, trying to feel her way around in the thick fog, that was suffocating her slowly.
"Stop this please – what do you want from me?!" She cried out at her unseen attacker.
"You know what it is that I seek… it belongs to me! It wishes to return to its Master!"
Taking a few more steps, she felt the air grow heavier, her lungs struggling to breath, as though it's very substance was suffocating her.
She shook her head, unable to speak anymore, before taking another step, only to find the ground beneath her bare feet suddenly give way.
Falling onto her hands and knees, she struggled to blindly grab hold of anything, to keep herself from slipping. Everything she touched felt sharp, cutting and tearing at her hands and fingers. But her efforts were futile, and the ground beneath her crumbled.
The thick, heavy fog enveloped her.
And after several long minutes of intense struggle against the drowning in the thick air, and scrambling to stop herself from falling, she finally let go….
She woke with a jolt. Her lips felt dry, and her thirst unquenchable. Still drowsy, it took a great effort to open her eyes and scan her unfamiliar surroundings.
Gandalf sat nearest to her, in a large armchair, deep in thought and gently puffing away on his pipe, while Dwalin sat in another chair opposite the wizard, carefully sharpening his axe with a stone.
The grey haired wizard was the first to notice her, and smiled. It was a reserved smile, mixed with compassion, worry and the slightest amount of fear. However, within moments of this Dwalin had jumped to his feet smiling, and coming to stand over her, offering to fetch drinks and food.
"I think it would be best if you called Lord Elrond, Master Dwalin." Gandalf requested, and when the tattooed warrior dwarf hesitated at first, the silver haired wizard shot him a stern look. "Make haste now, Master Dwarf."
"By Mahal's hairy arse cheeks! I'm going! Ya don't need ta get yer robes in a twist!" He groused as he left, muttering the last bit under his breath. "…Ya bloody, moody old git…"
Gandalf stood as Dwalin left, fetching her a goblet of water, before perching his large frame on the end of her bed and observing her carefully as she drank.
"Well, my dear, how do you feel…?"
"Like I've eaten a box full of sand, and repeatedly bashed my head against a rock." She downed the entire goblet and returned it back to the wizard, who refilled it without being asked to.
"That is because it appears you have managed to break a powerful sleeping spell we placed on you…" he raised an eyebrow, as he passed her a second goblet. "You almost fell. If not for your –"
"So you think it's true then – what he said, I mean… ?"
"What is true is that your abilities certainly appear to grow stronger…" he watched her as he spoke for a moment. "It does not matter who your father –"
"My mother – she has always been strange around my birthday…" she sat up, whispering. "I never thought anything of it – but I remembered… wait, what did you mean by a sleeping spell…?"
"We were worried that you looked exhausted. Lord Elrond worried that he had pushed you too hard in teaching you to focus your mind. So we both placed a slumber enchantment on you; a powerful one." He looked a little worried as he explained. "I would not expect even one with similar abilities to myself to break such a powerful enchantment, unaided. You were asleep for two days and were not expected to rouse for another five, at least. We even forced your King to occupy himself, in orde to stop his endless pacing at your bedside."
"Does… does he believe Saruman is right?"
"No, my dear, he wishes to take you back home." Gandalf smiled softly, attempting to reassure her. "By home – he means Erebor, not back to the land you once lived in…"
"How did you know I was thinking that?"
"You communicated your thoughts well. Did you not know you were doing that?" His eyes and forehead creased up again with worry. Lines that were well etched over centuries it seemed.
"I… I didn't…" she slowly shook her head. All it would take is for her to inadvertently reveal the whereabouts of the object in question.
"I think you drop your guard with me, my dear. Or you would have revealed you thoughts to Lord Elrond long ago. And he does not even have he slightest suspicion about Bilbo Baggins. But he should be nearing the Shire soon. Estel may have appeared young and in love to you, my lady, but I assure you he is a skilled fighter with a strong heart. He will deliver our hobbit safely home. Where I will check on him from time to time." He tapped out his pipe, pulled out a small pouch from his robes, and began to pack the chamber of the bowl with pipe weed, before looking up at her and winking. "I have a particular fondness for Longbottom leaf."
"Maybe I should return back home. I mean to London." She pushed back the strands of raven hair from her face to look up at the wizard, who looked rather relaxed now as he puffed away. "I wouldn't be a risk then. I am worried that he is right…"
She paused to gather her thoughts in an orderly way. Both Gandalf and Elrond had dismissed her fears in the past, implying that she was merely being overly emotional about it all. So she would have to be careful not to sound too emotional.
"For as long as I recall, my mother was always a bit… different… on my birthday. She would try to hide it, and be cheerful, but I could tell – there was something that bothered her. It wasn't until I was much older that my sister told me, that she disappeared suddenly. Everyone went looking for her – and when they found her, she appeared to be distressed." It was difficult not to sound emotional when matters concerned those she loved the most. "My mother, seemed too distressed to press too much, but the conclusion was that she was robbed… anyway soon after she was found to be pregnant with me. And the whole thing was never talked about again. But I know her, whatever happened, troubled her to the very last birthday I had. So it's definitely surrounding me and my birth. Although now I wonder, whether it was around my conception…"
"You think you were the result of a union between your mother and Sauron?"
"I don't know. But I can't be the first to arrive in this world from mine… and if there is a way here – then there must be a way back. Especially for Maiar?" She clenched her fists so that her nails dig into her palms in order to stop herself from crying. It was impossible to believe her mother would willingly cheat on her father – they were always so in love. This left only one alternative, that her mothers attacker forced himself on her, a thought that was horrifying in itself. But to then think there was a possibility that SHE was the sum of such a vile union, and that it may have been Sauron – well, it made her world stop without warning.
She was pulled out from where she drowned in her thoughts to the surface, to find an old pair of pale blue, cracked eyes observing her, filled with pity.
"Shobha, even if what he said were true. And I am beginning to question his trustworthiness – you are the one in control of your own destiny… and you have shown great strength and sacrifice, possibly greater than all the purest hearts I have met." The old wizard smiled softly, as though he could hear her very thoughts. "As for your mother… well, Sauron can be both persuasive and charming when it is needed. I do not think your mother would have suffered greatly. But there is no evidence beyond your abilities…"
"I have dreams – repeatedly. Never the same. But I hear him." She fiddled with the long sleeve of her dress. "I have dreamt of the Valar in the past too… why don't they give me any more guidance?" She certainly could have done with it right now!
"Sometimes they leave things for us to find out for ourselves. Because when it matters, we are often greater than we were ever meant to be." He patted her hand gently, and stood up to move back to his chair, only to unexpectedly turn back to her before glancing over to the door. "Just one more thing – I think it best we keep this talk between us for now…"
"Not even Thorin…?" Shobha frowned at him. Since finding herself in middle earth, she had felt increasing more alone. Far from what she had once imagined of a simpler, more peaceful life, it had turned out to be harsher, and the politics far more treacherous. In this world, where she felt the painful absence of her family, Thorin and his kin were her nearest and dearest. Surely the grey one wouldn't expect her to keep secrets from her husband.
"I wouldn't deny you of sharing your troubles with your husband." He took another puff. "I simply wouldn't share with anyone else – yet –"
"Not even Lady Galad –" but she was interrupted by the sound of urgent footsteps.
"Only Thorin." He carried on puffing, his expression neutral, although it was clear to her that he was deep in thought over all this.
First to emerge in the doorway was Thorin, who was immediately by her side, and he was closely followed by Elrond, Dwalin and Oin.
"My lady, you are awake sooner than expected – I was no longer permitted to remain –"
"At my bedside, I know. It's ok." She smiled at him, as he took her hand in his, placing a tender kiss across her knuckles.
"And I fear, I have overtaxed you, poor child." The tall elf gave her an apologetic smile, before glancing over to Gandalf with a suspicious look. "But I interrupted your discussion…"
"Oh no I merely mentioned that only Thorin will know when he is finished with the sword," Gandalf explained. "He has come so far in his work, it would be a shame to stop now…"
"I do not think it's owner wishes to bear it any time soon. It is hardly an urgent requirement." Elrond stood with his hands set behind his back, as he usually stood, calm and composed. It was considered the best course of action by Saruman, and Lady Galadriel had agreed to offer her protection, but he could no longer risk the dwarf and his consort remaining in Rivendell. "But you may find the waters of Lorien healing. And our Lady will be able to guide you further. You will also be safe –"
"There is no safety here or there! Not when you exert her so! I have given you time Lord Elrond; I have been patient, only to watch my bride grow more and more tired, and now you let wizards who have no intention in helping make matters worse, with lies and schemes." Thorin spoke calmly, summoning every last ounce of restraint that he could muster. "I see no resolution to any matter in what you offer. I am taking her home. Where she will be looked after – like a Queen.. my love, I hope you have no objections?"
"The journey back will be too long, and possibly dangerous for a woman with child. She cannot ride a pony or run from danger." Elrond interjected sternly. While he no longer believed his halls were the best place for her, he did not believe Erebor was a better alternative. "I do not think it wise –"
"She will be guarded by warriors. And I can have a caravan sent to reach here within two weeks." Thorin could no longer hide his irritation.
"This is most foolish. It is best that she remains here. In the unlikely event Saruman is correct, Sauron will no doubt send orcs to abduct her… her value is greater still as Thorin's bride, if she carries his heir! It will be the easiest path to controlling Erebor." Gandalf returned to stand on the other side of her bed.
And soon an argument had broken out between the three, words flying across the three ends of the bed, as she initially sat watching until she too could no longer take it.
Dwalin had walked in, initially wearing a rather amused expression, and then rapidly found himself irritated by their lack of progress. Looking over at the woman, who, to his utter surprise signed the word 'help' in Iglishmek! Without need for anything further, he raised his fingers to his lips and a high pitched whistle cut through the argument, halting the three as abruptly as if he had thrown his axes across the room!
"Yer like a bunch of rowdy soldiers, on ale night, fighting over who pays the barman!" The burly tattooed warrior didn't hesitate with his insults. "Perhaps it's time we asked the lass what SHE thinks eh?"
They all turned from Dwalin to look at her.
"Thank you Dwalin! While we both enjoyed watching Grandpa, Dad, and husband argue," she looked from Gandalf, to Elrond and Thorin, as Dwalin let out a chuckle. The latter two smiled at her references to them, but the tall wizard appeared less than amused by her allusion to his age! "I think I should decide…"
She looked at Elrond first, who appeared calm and composed, but she knew he was more guarded. Whether he believed Saruman, or not, the worry of an army of orc being sent out to lay siege to Rivendell on her behalf, was not something she needed. At the same time, Erebor had seen enough upheaval after the most recent battle. So she had no intent of returning again soon. In contrast the thought of spending some time with Lady Galadriel in Lorien was more appealing. She had more thought communication with her in recent days, and found her to be a more compassionate elf than even Elrond! They had been staying in Rivendell for nearly six weeks now, and one thing she had noticed, quite disappointingly, was that elves had a streak of selfishness to them. They lived long lives, considered immortal in someways, although, she couldn't understand that since they could indeed die if mortally wounded! This meant every decision they took surrounded this. They were careful and considered even when it came to procreating.
She had never seen so few children in a settlement before; and when she had questioned this, Arwen had explained that actions taken such as bringing forth new life, weakened their spirit and their own life force. In essence making them age a little more! Arwen, had then smiled, so radiantly, that Shobha had sworn she was glowing, only to find that the elleth confided in her that she would give up her long life so that she might bear so many children that her days were short but filled with unimaginable joy. It seemed that many elves never even found a mate, happy to spend their time delighting in the world instead.
And with this came a certain arrogance. Many elves cared little for the mortals that dwelled in the world and out of sight. For many should the world becomes corrupted by evil, and its poor souls subject to torment, the elves always had Valinor. A haven, without pain or suffering, to which they could escape, leaving men to fight.
In truth, she was ready to leave Imladris, and importantly, she now had a plan.
"I want to go to Lorien."She confirmed, as Thorin and Gandalf both muttered under their breath in return. "I don't intend for it to be for long, so relax the both of you. But I have to see what Lady Galadriel can do to help me. And she has offered her protection…"
What she truly meant was that, the Lady of Lorien would be able to help gather more information as to whether it was all indeed true. If it was merely a trick played by Saruman, she would go back to Erebor. In the meantime, she would be under the powerful protective enchantments of Galadriel herself.
"And you are certain of this, my Lady?" Thorin frowned. He worried about her. The sooner they were back in Erebor the better. He distrusted the elves, and was certain the White Wizard was plotting something.
"I'm afraid so…" she looked up at him apologetically. She would need to talk to him, to tell him about her worries, but she would wait till they were in Lorien first. "How much longer do you need to finish reforging the sword?"
"Almost no time at all. I was not permitted more than two visits each day, after the first night of your slumber, and needed to keep myself busy day and night or I would have been driven mad –"
"Aye, or driven us mad with yer mad pacing, more like." Dwalin chimed in, rolling his eyes.
"If you must go to Lorien, I suggest we leave this very night. There is little time to waste." Gandalf warned Thorin. Saruman had left Imladris this morning, and with him any news regarding the woman, clearly not from their world. "Travel light; I shall accompany you partway. But I must make haste to the libraries of Minas Tirith…"
…
"Lord Elrond, we thank you for your kind hospitality." Thorin spoke the words, begrudgingly. He wanted to hate this place, but the elf had been caring towards his wife, and she had insisted he personally thanked Elrond. And so he did. He would do anything for her – even thank an elf!
"King Thorin, it was my pleasure to have your company, and in particular to meet your bride." He owed his head graciously. "I wish you both great luck, good health, and great success and prosperity."
He paused and turned to collect something Dwalin held out, wrapped in a heavy velvet cloth.
It turned out that the dwarves had been prepared from the very first day they arrived, to leave again. They had bought a small elven caravan and amended it to be pulled by several ponies. And it turned out that, apart from their weapons, they carried almost little else. The only sack of things belonged to Oin, who had documented their stay to his hearts content, often making sketches and drawings of the elven halls and the various members of the group. And now they remained, all in dark travelling cloaks gifted by the elves, while above, the full moon shone brightly, bathing the lush valley in an eerie glow.
"All that remains is to present you with Telchar's sword, reforged…" Thorin stood broad and majestic as he stepped forward and unwrapped the item, Dwalin stood behind. When Shobha had told them that the sword would one day be taken to war against Mordor, by the new King, returned, they had taken the chance, immediately, to offer its reforging. They would not allow an elven smith to ruin the work of one of their greatest ancestors!
All who stood watching instantly gasped aloud at its sight; the sword Thorin held, stood incredibly tall, and shone brightly in the moonlight. It positively gleamed! The runes and markings on its blade, were expertly marked, and would likely be the last thing that many a foe would see.
Lord Elrond once again bowed his head graciously, before holding both hands out to accept the great sword. As he had promised Aragorn, he would keep it hidden and safe, ready for when he was.
"A great sword, deserves a great name…"Elrond looked to Thorin for a suggestion.
"Ada, it shines bright, like a flame…" a voice spoke softly from behind the tall elf.
Everyone peered into the dimly lit archway that lead to the courtyard they were all gathered in, as Arwen stepped forward.
"Aye, my lady, a flame for the King of Men in the West." Dwalin smiled proudly.
"Then Anduril, the flame of the West, it shall be named." Elrond wrapped it back up and smiled, as Thorin bowed his head.
Quietly, everyone began to prepare their ponies, as Shobha moved towards Arwen, who watched on sadly.
"Lady Arwen," Shobha smiled taking her hand. "Thank you for all your kindness, and all the pretty dresses you gave me during my stay."
"Everyone I love leaves me," she sighed. "I fear that may be my destiny in life…"
"Don't say that, please," Shobha soothed, feeling her own eyes welling up. "Damn my hormones… you know I can't stay here, Lady Arwen. I can't risk the safety of everyone here, on my account."
"I do not believe it is true." She referred to Saruman. "I may not possess the ability to communicate by thought, but I have come to know you, Lady Shobha. And I fear I suspect why you travel to Lorien. Does your King know?"
Shobha shook her head silently.
"If I tell him now, he will not agree to it. I will tell him my plan when we get there. But it will make little difference. If I return, that will be the end of us… Thorin can't come back; he will be needed in years to come – more than I will." She had considered everything to the best of her ability in the short time she had since listening to Saruman. "But I am hoping that the mirror will help me, understand more. Or that Gandalf might find something… otherwise I have no choice. Too many died when Erebor was attacked last. If Lady Galadriel can send me home then I stop being a problem…"
"I do not know if she will be agreeable, even if she has the power, which she may not. And take care with your decision, for it may be your very presence that alters the very course of Arda to bring strength and power against the darkness." Arwen reached out gently, placing her hand over Shobhas growing belly. "An heir to the greatest dwarven kingdom, but one of great strength, and purity of heart – free from the greed they are often plagued with. Perhaps consider that that is why, you are being convinced to leave…"
"My Queen?" Thorin came to stand behind her, indicating they were ready for her. When Arwen looked over to him, he bowed his head in acknowledgement – whatever his mistrust of the elves, this elleth had been kind towards his One, and it seemed they had struck up a close friendship. Arwen had visited Shobha every day, sitting with her as Oin and the elven healer had checked on her growing pregnancy. They had always sat for a while chatting afterwards, smiling and giggling together. "My Lady Arwen."
She leant down and gently embraced the small woman, eyes glistening with bushed tears. There had been no doubt, she had enjoyed the friendship of the dwarf king's consort, finding her strange compared with her own people, but all the same warm and gentle.
"Thank you for easing my heartache in these recent days," she whispered to Shobha. "Please write to me when you can… and promise me, you will take time to consider your actions."
"Of course I will. And don't give up hope, if he truly is the one your heart wishes for." Shobha couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with sadness, as Arwen hugged her again before she turned to take Thorin's hand as he guided her over and lifted her up into the caravan, with the ease of strength that dwarves seemed to possess. There was a terrible finality about everything that night. The most beautiful Arwens story of love, had one of the saddest endings she knew. There was no happily ever after for them. And now there was every chance that her own love story would end sooner that she hoped.
Their final preparations were interrupted by the quiet clatter of hooves into the courtyard.
Peering out of the caravan from behind Thorin, she spotted an elven warrior, armoured and mounted on his steed, his golden hair flowing out from under his helmet. He moved his horse close to Thorin, as he sat holding the reins.
"King Thorin, I will escort your party through our borders for protection. There are several of our mounted guard who have volunteered to join me," the elf removed his helmet. "I owe your Queen a debt of gratitude."
It was Glorfindel!
"Are you well enough Lord Glorfindel…?"
"My Lady, that I am, and is thanks at least in a great part to you." True to his form, he was an elf of few words, and his mind was made up. Receiving a nod of thanks from her husband, he swiftly pulled his helmet on and began to move to lead the group in front, where Gandalf and Nori rode. "Then let us set off with the good graces of Eru…"
…..
They had travelled with uncomfortable speed. Despite the mass of cushions they had gathered for her, she had felt every bump and stone on the road. But determined to reach Lorien safely, Gandalf had kept up the pace, and Thorin had maintained it, much to the grumbling of Ori and Dori who were forced to keep up behind. Dwalin, who had sat with her, armed to the teeth, in the caravan, had constantly kept guard, grousing regularly about his uneasiness regarding their journey in the darkness. While she couldn't see much around her, she could also hear the hooves of at least six mounted elves, that accompanied their party too.
She couldn't help but wonder about her gentle pony, Buttercup, who had been left in Rivendell, and her travelling companion from her last journey, Bilbo Baggins. She wondered whether her pony was enjoying the ample green food the elves supplied their stables each day, and whether the hobbit had now reached his home safe and sound.
And so they had carried on for several long hours, as as they neared Lorien, Gandalf had peeled away riding off south to Gondor, with a final warning that they were not to stop for any reason until they reached Lorien.
Then without warning, Dwalin had pushed her to lie down as an arrow wizzed past her head.
That was how the attack had begun. They were being hunted by a group of orc. They moved with a great level of speed and agility, making horrifying growling noises.
Above her she could hear the shouts of the elves, and dwarves as arrows continued to fly over her, many landing in the walls of the caravan, both outside and within.
She had remained with her head down, as the clang of weapons and fighting had ranged on around, and the group had continued to move, for the borders of Lorien.
Suddenly the caravan lurched dangerously to one side, as one of the wheels came off.
"Hold on tight!" Thorin yelled, as he fought to control the ponies.
"Stay down lass –" Dwalin shouted as he swung his axe at several orc that had managed to make it to the rear of the caravan.
Outside the noise was terrifying, between the confused whinnying of the horses, the clatter of weapons, as metal crashed on metal, and the growls and grunts of the orcs as commands came in black speech. She covered her head instinctively with her hands as she lay face down in the pillows she once sat on, uncomfortably trying to hold her stomach off the ground.
Then within moments it seemed the other rear wheel came off and the back of the wagon ground down on to the floor, the axel digging itself into the path of the road, while the ponies fought in vain to carry on pulling. The weapons that rested on the floor slid down to the back, with Dwalin jumping to avoid injury.
"Och bollocks!" Dwalin cursed, as he immediately returned to his feet and began picking up the weapons and throwing them, at what she imagined were unsuspecting orcs. "Are ya hurt lass?"
"No! Are you ok?"
"Aye," he replied back continuing his hacking at any foe that appeared close. "Thorin! It's no use! We need to get ready to run!"
Thorin, who was busy fighting at the front of the wagon, cursed in Khuzdul, in response.
"Wait until we dispatch a few more!" Thorin shouted from in front.
"Aye! I can carry her – if you cover from in front!" Dwalin appeared to be preparing.
"When I give the word then!"
But before they could do more, the caravan was rammed from he side, the roof and structure bucking and tearing open with a horrid crunching noise. She looked up to find herself being pulled out by a particularly large orc. It looked taller, and more vicious that what she had seen before.
Before the creature could move much further, it was brought down, with an axe landing with a sickening thud into its back. Falling on to her knees in the dirt, she leant against the side of the caravan, attempting to look for the group, when she was pulled onto a warg, as it began to bound into the nearby trees.
At first she had believed it had been moving with purpose, until she soon realised that its rider, was in fact dead although she had been tethered to it. The creature simply moved to escape the fight itself.
It had carried on moving far away from any noise, while she had tried to grasp the reins the rider held, then she had attempted to get herself off the creature, but the orc had tied her into its saddle, and so she reached for a dagger that glinted in the moonlight and began to cut away at the straps. The Wolf itself, now realising that its rider was dead had been attempting to shake its load free, brushing itself at any tree that came into sight. She had only narrowly avoided a thick trunk, as she continued working away to cut off the straps.
Behind the sound of hooves could be heard faintly, but ahead of them the sound of rapidly flowing water was also unmistakable!
She determined to carefully fall off, she wrapped her left hand around one of the harness straps while feverishly working to cut through the leather of the other straps that bound her as the beast bounded on.
And then, with the sound of two arrows that speared through the hide of the warg, before she could finish detaching herself, it rolled off the side of a rocky outcrop and she found herself plunged into cold water.
Holding her breath, as the weight of the large wolf pulled her under the fast flowing water, she was just able to cut the final tether that held her onto the creature.
Her legs bashed against sharp rocks within the water as currents threatened to pull her under further, and she fought hard to keep her face above the water, but the sheer force of the large river was overpowering.
Sharp rocks tore at her limbs and her long dress smothered her movements. Above the night was slowly breaking into dawn, and her strength slowly failing. Her limbs ached and her lungs gasped as she gulped air and water each time she surfaced, until she could fight no more.
It was strangely peaceful letting go of the fight. It meant she could see the rosy glow of dawn in the sky, which took her mind off the pain in her limbs and her lungs, and the desperate desire to breath.
If this was dying, it was much less painful than she had imagined based on the patients she had seen in hospital.
Her parents came to mind; she thought of the way they reassured her, even when things felt at their worst. She thought of Thorin; how he had protected her to the very last moment, and the life he had made for her in this harsh new world.
And then she thought about her unborn child; wondering what he or she might have looked like, and what sort of man or woman they might have grown up to be.
The cold water enveloped her.
If this was death, it was strangely calm. One might even say it was peaceful.
…
Dear all,
A bit of an extra long chapter - sorry :)
Thank you for your reviews – you def keep me going. Please cont to post your comments xx
Special thanks –
Priya – thanks! Hope you enjoy this chapter too
Bill – thank you so much and welcome to my crazy story, and thank you for my 100th review!
ColdOnePaul – thank you! I def agree she is torn between the knowledge she has, and altering the course of things too much. But then again, Thorin and nephews survived the battle after retaking Erebor, so already the course of things have changed, even before her arrival. And surely her arrival has further changed things. I think that is all the more a reason why she thinks she has to go back. But that action will later things again, because she will be taking the Thorin's heir with her. She's stuck…
Crystal-Wolf-Guardian-967 – thank you so much. Hope you enjoy this chapt too!
