She lay there, in the dimly lit cave, as her blurred vision slowly cleared. Despite the inhospitable nature of the space, her cot felt soft, warm and cosy. In the distance she could make out the glow of a small fire, against which several silhouettes moved about.

Her breathing felt laboured, reactions slow, and simply waking up felt near impossible. And so she drifted back again, heavy eyelids shutting under their own seemingly colossal weight, only to flutter open a little while later.

She must have repeated this cycle many times before she was finally able to keep her eyes from closing, turning her head towards the fire.

Slowly the blurring of her vision began to clear and she found herself looking at a man, woman and their three children, as they moved about the cave. They were short for men, although taller than many dwarves, lean, and dark skinned. They wore simple handmade clothes, and spoke to each other in a throaty language, similar to Khuzdul. But now she had lived for so long in Erebor, and taken lessons with their younglings, she had become quite adept at understanding it even in the various dialects spoken. This was certainly a different language altogether.

She lay there watching for a little while, still quite unable to move, as one of the children sat quietly playing.

A voice sounded from somewhere closer – above her head. It spoke in the same language, excitedly, as a young boy came into sight. He wore a wide grin, and gently set a hand on her forehead to check her temperature and turning his head back at the others, cried out, several times, excitedly at them again in their language. He looked back down at her again, and then trailed his gaze down to her belly, setting his hand softly on the large bump now, and spoke to her again.

"My Westron, not very good. Only little." He smiled again, trying to put her at ease. He was lean in build, and quite possibly in his late teens, but carried himself as if he was an adult. "I – Ghol."

He pointed to himself, and waited for a bit, so she nodded in acknowledgement, still not quite understanding what had happened.

"Me – Ghol…"

Within moments they were surrounded by the rest of his family. And his mother stepped forward tentatively and began to do as he did, slowly checking her for a fever and then checking her baby, through the linen shift she had on.

"Do you know where you are, girl?" The older man who remained behind the others asked.

She shook her head slowly, as the woman nodded and smiled, to indicate that all was well.

"Do you recall much?" The man asked again.

Shobha paused, forcing her fuzzy head to think, and then gasped as flashes of memory slowly came to her.

"Water…" Shobha gasped again, her voice no more than a whisper.

The boy who remained diligently at her side nodded.

"Me found you… in river." He patted his chest proudly, nodding again with the eagerness of a teenager attempting to prove their maturity.

"You had almost drowned, girl," the man then interrupted his son, his tone harsher. "Do you recall falling into the water?"

She nodded slowly. Then she moved her hands to feel her belly, the first thought that came to her head as she began to make sense of the events that had transpired.

"Babe safe…" The woman gently touched her hand reassuringly.

"Do you recall how you fell girl?" He asked a little more insistent.

And then she remembered the orcs, the attack, and Thorin. Thorin. Her body still felt weak, as she struggled to reach out and grab hold of the edge of her cot, so that she might sit herself up. But she found the boy, Ghol and his mother were by her side in a flash, steadying her up.

"I was attacked, on my journey… the wagon… an orc grabbed me, but he died, and the warg couldn't stop. It leapt off the cliff into the water." She looked around her at the family, worried. If she had been the target of the attack, then these poor people, who looked very much unarmed would be vulnerable. And there was no need for that. Already, she feared Thorin and Dwalin had come to harm. "I must go… Where am I…?"

"No! Too weak still!" The woman shook her head, looking up at her mate angrily. "Need eat, drink… Ghul!"

"My wife is right. You cannot go now. We have a storm coming –" his words were, perfectly interrupted by the nearby rumble of thunder, like the loud groaning of some unearthly celestial beings' rather large stomach. "No choice, girl. And the orcs are now roaming the lands beyond our borders. I imagine they search for you…"

"Then you need to let me leave –" she tried to scramble to her feet, but found she really was weak. "Maybe if you put me on a horse –"

"You are not able to ride. Your confinement is too far gone." His eyes lowered to glance at the significant swell of her belly. "Do not fear the orcs. They are not able to set foot upon our lands. I am more worried that we have brought you here… when we have not informed our chieftain. We are the healers, and my son found you. He would not let me leave you with another."

"Ghul!" His partner chastised before turning towards her again. "Ghol, good boy. Good healer – learning. You, stay; food, drink, get better… you, babe, safe – with us."

Shobha smiled at first she had been worried, but had now come to conclude that these people could be trusted.

"I live in Erebor. My husband is important there… if we could get a message there, then they might arrange a group to come and collect me…."

"Dwarves?" The man raised his brows in surprise. "You are wife of a dwarf? And yet you are not a dwarf…"

"Yes, my husband is a dwarf –"

"But you were not travelling to Erebor?" He observed her with open suspicion this time.

"No. I was travelling to Lorien… perhaps you could send a message there?" She offered hopefully.

"We do not trust the elves, and their prejudice, for those they consider lesser than themselves. They possess such great wisdom that they should persecute us for our unlovely faces according to them." Ghul did not attempt to hide his irritation. "You May share our complexion, but they will see your face as beautiful. No, we have no concern for them."

It made her wonder about the elves.

A loud rumble of thunder made them all turn towards the entrance to the cave, and Ghul addressed his family quickly, as he rushed over to close the door they had built on the opening of the cave. Everyone else scurried about shuttering the few windows they seemed to have carved out, before Ghol and his youngest sibling, a little girl of no more than five, brought several blankets and furs over to her.

"You keep warm. Storm setting outside." He spoke softly. "Your clothes dry soon. Mother washed clothes."

The little girl sat on the cot, leaning on Shobha, clutching onto a small rag doll that had been made at home, and looked quite worse for wear. She was a pretty little girl, of no more than five with big eyes and a button nose, and watched the others rushing about with a slight nervousness.

"Do not worry. Gal, scared of storm… of noise…" Ghol simulated the thunder and lightning outside. "She caught out, in storm – one year before."

"Oh. You poor darling." Shobha whispered, as the girl looked up at her with her big brown eyes, quite forlorn. So she wrapped her arm around the little girl, adjusting the fur that had been wrapped around her shoulders to include Gal in the warmth as they sat together on the cot. "Do you know what? I never liked storms either… so we can keep each other company, okay?"

She wasn't sure how much Gal understood, but she certainly looked up at her, and attempted to force a smile, nodding.

Some moments later, Ghul had returned, entirely drenched, from what she imagined was securing the door and windows from the outside. His wife handed him a cloth, which he used to dry himself, initially lingering by the fire and talking to her and Ghol, before he hurried over to the back of the cave where all their cots were laid out.

"You will need to get dressed, girl. Are you well enough to stand? My wife will help you." He nodded towards her. "The Chieftain is on his way. And he will not like that we brought you here into our lands without his specific consent."

His wife spoke harshly at him again in their language, to which he responded quickly, and when Ghol interrupted, they both silenced him.

"Do not be scared." Ghol reassured again. "Mother scolding father, chief should not come today."

"It's okay. I think it's my fault, and I shouldn't get you all in trouble… it might even be better this way…" she spoke up from where she sat. And when Ghul and his wife Ghia carried on she added. "There is something you need to know about me..."

They fell silent and turned to her immediately. It was clear from the frowns each wore, that they feared the worst, so she realised now was the time to speak up.

"I am Shobha, my husband is Thorin… King under the Mountain. I carry his child –"

Ghia smiled in understanding, while Ghul's frown melted into an expression of nervousness.

"My wife imagined you were wed to a dwarf royal. Our chief will not be pleased, but we cannot send you away now." He brushed the damp hair off his face, and tied it back, revealing his coarser features, which resembled what she imagined was what a half human, half dwarf would look like. There was nothing 'unlovely' about Ghul, Ghia or any of their children, quite contrary to what the elves allegedly thought. "Do you know why the orcs were chasing you? These are not the usual mindless filth that come down from the North. We saw them: They possess sophisticated weaponry and armour. They are carrying out orders of one who holds power…"

"Do you think… Saruman…?" She recollected the description given by one of the treacherous dwarves about the Istari.

"These wizards you menfolk admire, are all corrupt." He spoke through grit teeth. "The white Wizard, has fortified Orthanc, and the valley, he calls his own. All who pass are subject to his interrogation. We avoid the gap of Rohan when our folk travel."

His wife frowned at her husband, then spoke firmly to him again in their language.

"My wife is right. Our chief will sense these things of you. There is little you can do to hide anything. His magic is powerful. But as his healers, we will insist you remain in our protection until, at least the weather improves now."

"What?! No! Please…" she got to her feet shakily, as Ghol and Ghia both rushed to support her from either side. Her thoughts suddenly turned to Thorin, who she imagined would begin searching for her. "Thorin… I need to get a message…"

Her mind swirled with so many thoughts. She needed to know that Thorin, Dwalin and the others were unharmed after the attack. Ghul was right in that the orcs had now mounted several coordinated attacks, with war trolls and proper weaponry. And then she still hadn't forgotten that her original intention was to return back home, where she might spare middle earth, if indeed she was somehow linked to Sauron, and would end up turning into a terrible person! Particularly since she now knew where the ring was!

"We have no way of sending out a message, right now," Ghul interrupted her thoughts. "But we will find a way. Your concerns must be with meeting our chief now. We must convince him that you must stay with us for now, or he will arrange to have your given to Rohan or Gondor."

"Then I could get back – "

"If you mistrust the white wizard, then you should know that some years ago he returned from his wonderings in the east, claiming he wished to help the men of Rohan and Gondor. And the Steward with agreement from the Horsemaster King, gave the keys of Orthanc to him, where he now resides as their ally and friend." Ghul warned her. "They will no doubt consult the wizard regarding you, perhaps even hand your safeguarding over to him."

She wondered whether that is what Saruman had planned all along.

"Do you think the chief will help with getting a message out?"

"Not ask this." Ghia shook her hand, bringing over the dress she had worn when they had been travelling. "Chief must agree – keep you here."

Ghia began helping her get dressed, as Ghul and Ghol brought a screen over to give them some privacy. Her old dress, in rich blue was clean and still appeared rather grand, although it now had a few tears in the fabric, which she imagined was from being caught in the river and snagged on rocks and reeds.

"Could not mend." She smiled at her. "Hoped more time…"

But then Ghia fell silent abruptly, as Shobha slipped her hands into the sleeves, turning to see what her hostess had grown concerned over. Reaching behind her with a groan, she realised that she had sustained a large bruise over the right side of her back. Shobha took a deep breath and bracing herself for more pain, she began to reach back to pull the dress together, but Ghia stopped her.

"No room now." Ghia sighed, shaking her head sadly. "Baby growing. Fast."

Shobha, nervously felt her belly. Ghia was indeed right. That dress had been tailored with plenty of space, and it was not in any way snug when they left Rivendell.

"How long was I unconscious for?" She asked feeling her stomach all around and checking her ankles to make sure it wasn't just swelling.

"Ghol found you river. Travel for ten days. Had fever. Now home one day…" Ghia smiled, attempting to hide her concern.

"Why do I not feel weaker?"

"Ghul… sleeping magic on you. He worry – you near death." She crudely signalled with her hands again. "Worked well. You both safe."

She cradled her growing stomach, as she felt several gentle movements. It made her feel overwhelmingly tearful, as she contemplated the possibility that she and their baby might have drowned, if not for this family. Then imagining Thorin, wracked with worry, made her feel further guilty – and she never had the chance to say goodbye. She had never intended to hurt him like this.

"Not be sad, girl." Ghia softly touched her cheek, pulling her in for a hug. Shobha rested her head on Ghia's shoulder for a bit as she sobbed softly for a few minutes. "Not cry, girl. We get message to King… you see… until then, safe here."

Then Ghia slowly found Shobha's hands and set within it, the gold filigree heart locket, filled with Sapphires, that Thorin had once given her, which she had worn all this time close to her heart.

"Hurry up. Our Chieftain is on his way." Ghul called out from further away.

"Not cry, girl. Me get clothes."

Gandalf moved swiftly down the spiral staircase that led out of the reliquary holding the dim lantern. Darkness had fallen long ago, but he intended to travel anyway. He had received frequent communication from the Lady of Lorien, and they were now beginning to worry about Thorin's Queen. Until her fall into the fast flowing waters near the pass, they had heard her thoughts, as loud as though she stood right before them. But now the silence was deafening.

It troubled him.

As he reached the doorway to the tower, he could see the light of a small lantern in the atrium, held by a tall figure, draped in a dark cape. Upon hearing Gandalf he turned towards the old wizard, and bowed his head formally, before looking up and flashing a smile, that reminded him of the bright-eyed boy he once was.

"Mithrandir!"

"Adrahil! My Prince!" Gandalf returned the gesture before extending his hand out to grasp his shoulder in a warm embrace. "I did not mean to have you disturbed."

"It is no trouble, Gandalf. I would prefer that I held the keys for such a task…" he hurried to the door and shutting it, turned the large iron key, before carefully putting it away about his person. "It is clearly an important quest you are on, that has forced you to travel this far south so urgently. So I would prefer to keep this business between us…"

Gandalf frowned, turning to the Prince of Amroth again, surprised at his response, and yet half expecting a him to demand an explanation.

"There is no need to be alarmed, Gandalf, but I do not believe the archives of Minas Tirith are well preserved any longer. The library there, in any case, is cared for by those once from Dol Amroth. And not less than two years ago we received several carts of secretly smuggled ancient volumes, to save their transfer to Orthanc..." He whispered to the Grey wizard as they both walked back to his halls hurriedly. "Our books have no place there in the Iron fortress. We are still proud of our heritage here, to say our forefathers were the Princes of Belfalas, descended of loyal Numenoreans, with our reliquary of both Elvish and Manfolk materials. But should it become knowledge in Minas Tirith, that you had business here, then our volumes would likely be searched and confiscated."

"Then I am sorry my visit must be so secret, but I fear time is of the essence now." Gandalf replied ruefully, gracious that the young prince did not press on inquiring further, unlike his father would have done.

"Well, I hope that you have found what you sought out…" He laughed, his grey eyes looking paler still in the dim glow of his lantern. "It is a shame, my father would have wished to meet with you, but he would be less discreet. He will not accept any criticism of Ecthelion, or the White Wizard."

"I will return to pay your father a visit, in better times…" Gandalf hesitated, observing the tall man, as he led the way.

"Of course, I think it better, under these circumstances that your business remains only yours, Mithrandir." He stopped the Wizard, almost hinting at a warning. "It will mean that your visit today must remain unknown even to my father, for now."

The wizard nodded in silent understanding. Adrahil led the way silently, reaching the guest room in a quiet part of the palace, before turning towards the grey pilgrim. His grey eyes regarded Gandalf with concern, as he leant over and whispered.

"There is something else - I hear word of orcs, chasing someone or something. They lurk near the old Drüg Forests. It troubles me..." He ushered Gandalf in. "If you plan to travel that way, beware. Now, I will take my leave so that you may rest, I have asked that your horse is seen to in my personal stables. It will be safest to leave at first light."

….

Ghia had found her some sort of makeshift cloak to place over her shift. Fortunately it was both roomy and warm. But that had been the least of her worries.

"Ghia, would you believe me if I told you, that I am worried about something… that lies within me…? I think it's something… so very dark…" Shobha took the woman's hand gently, to stop her from fussing over the item of clothing. Nothing that Ghia could do would make any improvement on the way she looked anyway. "And my being here may bring you all to harm?"

But Ghul called from behind the screen, in their language, prompting Ghia to smile and pat her on the shoulder like a mother geeing up an errant child.

"No girl. No bad in you." She smiled gently. Then she warned. "Make chief – let you stay. Not good you travel now."

They slowly moved the screen as she sat back down on her cot, to reveal Ghul stood there, speaking quietly with another man, of similar appearance to him. Except, the Chieftain wore earrings, several necklaces made with shells strung together in an ostentatious pattern, and a his face was painted with a red ochre that reminded her of a Native American chief. Despite being slightly shorter than Ghul, he stood broad chested, and proud, which gave him authoritative look. He too was wet, although perhaps not as much as Ghul, so she imagines he must have worn a cape on his journey here, although there was no sign of it now.

"So you are the woman, Ghol rescued?" He stepped closer making to appraise her better, and while she attempted to stand up, he waved her to remain seated. He spoke well, like Ghul, even though with a throaty accent, and surveyed her with clear suspicion. "You are indeed heavy with child. You owe my brother the debt of both your lives."

Shobha held on to Ghia and shakily stood anyway, and suddenly found their little girl appear to her other side. She quietly reached up her hand and took Shobhas, in silent solidarity, still clutching onto her little rag doll with her other hand.

"Sir, I am Shobha, my husband is Thorin, son of Thrain, King under the Mountain. I am so sorry for causing any trouble, but we were travelling to Lothlórien to see the white lady, when a pack of orc attacked us. I was abducted, albeit quite briefly, when the warg I was on, fell into a tributary of a river. It was over a ravine near one of the low passes in the Misty Mountains." She explained. "That is as much as I remember."

"So you had travelled West of the Mountains, from Erebor first. What business had you in the West?"

"I wished to travel to Imladris… before I had the baby… it's kind of a tradition in the land I come from…" she didn't feel ready to tell these people the truth about things. "We call it a baby moon… it's a journey you wish to make before the baby arrives, because after the baby you can't do much freely…"

"But dwarves never allow their female folk to travel, do they?" He appeared unconvinced at first.

"Well, I am not a dwarrow-dam. Also, that is why I was accompanied by the King himself, along with five of his warriors and Gandalf the Grey." She spoke with a surety that she did not feel, trying to channel her inner Queen Consort.

It seemed to throw him off, because he stood there watching her, as if they were playing some sort of strange game of poker and he was searching for signs of a tell about her face. But she remained still and calm, for not more than a few hours ago, before she had regained consciousness, she had expected to be dead. In stead she wracked her brains trying to recall what little she had read about the Druedain in the stories. To her recollection there was nothing to indicate they were in any way malicious.

"Very well, then it appears those who hunt you, are indeed desiring your capture at all costs." The chief frowned, taking a step closer to inspect this small woman that had created such a fuss. As far as he could see, she was nothing special, but an ordinary woman. She looked worn out, and perhaps she did behave with a certain subconscious grace that made her quite suited to be a Queen indeed. But the small platoons of orc that lingered on the borders of their lands, were clearly seeking her out.

The chief paused, turning to Ghul and speaking quietly. He appeared irate, while Ghul spoke almost pleadingly.

"You cannot stay here." He finally turned to face her. "You are too much of a danger to my people, even if my brother believes you are innocent."

He then moved towards her swiftly and suddenly.

"I must see your hands." He stepped closer still and grasped her wrists carefully turning her palms up to inspect her hands. Holding her hands up, he appraised them for sometime before letting her go. "My brother tells me, you are no witch – but I can feel a power that lies within you…"

Fearing the worst she took an unsteady step back.

" – Brother, she is a healer! Can you not see?!" Ghul interrupted him. "And she will be helpful to us."

The Chieftain turned to Ghul, clearly displaying irritation at him, before they both began a hushed but angry exchange in their own throaty language. As both grew more irate, their speech appeared to speed up, with Shobha, Ghia, Ghol and the little girl, all stood watching hopelessly, until a small leather ball flew towards the pair. It hit the chief on his shoulder and flew into Ghul's hands, as a boy, slightly younger than Ghol came scurrying over and muttered something resembling a half hearted apology, and collected it from his less than pleased father.

"Is he true in his assumption, that you are a healer, girl?" The chieftain finally asked Shobha.

"Yes."

"But of course, as consort to the King, I imagine you never practiced." He smirked, as though he had thought of some way to catch her out.

"Actually, I have continued to practice, regardless – I am even paid a wage, as I work as much as any other healer. And Erebor's infirmary is always busy." She then added quickly. "I have even helped out the elves at Rivendell, although I was a guest of Lord Elrond."

"Hmmm…" he gave Ghul a reluctant sidelong glance. "Very well, brother. She may stay – but only until she is well enough to travel. I expect her to be taken to the men of Gondor, in two months. We cannot take responsibility for a Queen that belongs to the dwarves. And they are your kind, I imagine they should help you return back to your husband and King."

She nodded, conceding to his decision. They were his people, and he was merely looking to protect them – Thorin would make the same choice. She nodded again with a heavy heart, thinking of him.

The Drúedain had gathered in their meeting place. Their people appeared to live in small groups of families scattered throughout the forests near the white mountains. But they often met together, for discussions and regular feasts. They were not raucous, or grand meals, but comparatively humble gatherings, where the children played together and important matters discussed.

Since Shobha had been recovering for several weeks now, she had been brought with Ghul's family to these gatherings too. Fortunately for her, the distance to reach there was not so great, and the walk mostly pleasant.

What had troubled her was the lack of contact, it appeared that her Osanwe was 'broken'. She was unable to connect with anyone, despite how hard she tried. And she should often find herself up at night trying desperately. But her sleep had been equally rid of any previous nightmares. She no longer saw Mordor when she closed her eyes. Unfortunately, she seemed to be unable to find Thorin in her dreams either. And despite how much she missed him, it was also hard not to wonder whether he was better off without her – particularly not if she had a darkness within her. Perhaps he would forget her soon enough.

She sat on a little log seat, near the children in the group. Although she was treated as a guest by Ghul and his family, the rest of the community considered her in part a prisoner. Ghia and Ghul had been specific in keeping her true identity as the wife of the Dwarf King a secret, with only Ghan-Buri, the chief, being aware of this fact. As such, most of the other adults treated her with suspicion and simply wanted her gone.

The only place she was accepted without prejudice here, was amongst the children, and even then it was mostly due to Gal's influence on the others. She was a tiny thing, with a bright, pretty face and big, mahogany eyes. While she what been initially very shy with Shobha, she had also very quickly taken to her, as the only female company in the household that had any time to play with her. It had begun with her learning to speak some Westron, like her older brothers, then moving on to playing with her doll and finally with Shobha braiding her hair. It had become something of a routine soon, that Gal would come to her each morning to have her hair brushed and braided. Ghia had not minded, although it seemed that braiding was not really a thing amongst the Drúedain, in the same way as for the Dwarves, and for the most part she was grateful to have someone to watch Gal, freeing her up to get more done. And so, Shobhas friendship had grown with the little girl, both growing far more attached to the other than they should have allowed, knowing that the day when they had to part was also steadily nearing.

It had also transpired that Gal was incredibly popular amongst all the other children, both boys and girls alike! And she was also something of a natural leader when in that group. It had meant the other children had accepted Shobha, despite what their parents clearly thought of her.

This had been her third visit to their communal gatherings, and she had sat quietly, in the corner, where the children played. She knew her place at these events, and sitting there in silence gave her lots of time to think. Too much time.

She missed Thorin so much, it had become an ache. It was hard to get over what a pickle she felt she had created for herself, after being taken from her old life, and rebuilding one there in Erebor, only to be lost once more.

But she was still not clear whether she should leave Middle Earth or not.

"Shobha, father says the travellers have set camp at the edge of our woods. They are later in their… journey… this year. Normally, earlier in the season." Ghol snapped her out of her thoughts as he spoke. For only a few weeks of speaking with her, his Westron had dramatically improved. "Mother says you should see them, as they will be able to get a message back to Erebor. They will travel to the North if you convince them."

She paused and looked up at the young man, a first a little surprised, and then when it finally registered, she slowly knelt down and struggled up into her feet.

"You must not do that, Shobha. It is best you hold onto me." Ghol chastised gently. "Mother has said, you must go gently for the next few weeks, for I assure you, I thought you dead when I first saw you in the waters of the Gwathló."

She nodded, suddenly anxious to see these travellers. After so many weeks, when she believed there was no way to get a message out, and just as she had given up hopes of doing so, hearing this had somehow breathed life into her!

"Okay, I'm sorry. Now lets go!" She urged him on.

The walk towards the edge of their forest, where the group of men from the south were camped was not far. They had a circle of caravans set up, with a campfire and several cook pots in the centre, while a few women and children pottered around each of their caravans. As their group approached they were met by several men who were heavily armed, and clearly responsible for protecting the camp, but they seemed to know Ghul and the Cheiftain well, standing back to let them pass.

Their clan seemed to gather closer as they passed through into the camp, keeping Ghia and Shobha in the middle.

"Ah! Chief Ghan!" A man with curly, chestnut hair stepped forward. "I hope the seasons past since we last met have kept you and your clan in good health."

"We thank you Marekh, and hope your people find their journeys successful." The Chief bowed his head.

"Well, I won't lie, but you certainly appear to have a new orc problem not far off your borders this year…" Marekh surveyed the group with complete curiosity. "But for some months since our journey back from Bree last winter, my grandmother could feel certain changes. Something from the old Dol Gul Dur… it stirs, attempting to spread shadow."

He spoke with an ominous tone, as if imitating a psychic, and then immediately shrugged his shoulders.

"Of course I think it might be her rheumatism!" And then chuckled, before glancing towards the group, catching Shobhas gaze and winking. "You have more visiting our camp this time… it might we owe the pleasure, good Ladies and Sirs… we have collected many wares and finely crafted items; excellent clothes, shoes… even weapons..?"

"I am glad to hear your trades have been a success, Marekh, but our requirements are always only ever very specific. We do not possess much coin to purchase many things with –" the Chief began politely only to be cut off with a friendly pat on his shoulder by the man, who grinned playfully. But it was clear that Ghan, the leader of the Drúedain, found his informal friendliness a touch offensive. He stiffened, while attempting to return the gesture.

"Come now, Sir! I would never charge you for all the years of hospitality you have shown us, when we stop here, and take shelter in your forest." Marekh smiled leading them on through their site.

"We have a particular request," Ghul spoke up then, glancing briefly at Shobha. "But it might require your travel to the North…"

Marekh had led the small group towards a set of caravans which clearly contained a stock of items that they clearly traded, and upon hearing this he paused and returned his gaze back to the group, finding Shobha again.

"Well… it depends on why. This is a long journey… and just as autumn is beginning to set in. Then with these orc and everything else –"

"Dale is thriving now, you will have plenty of business. Even the elves trade." Shobha finally spoke up. "You will find much more to buy and sell."

"So tell me then Princess, for what would you have us visit the Dwarf King's mountain?" He stared at her with clear interest now. It was borne of an inquisitiveness that was not wholly positive, something which Ghia picked up on, causing her to instinctively step in front of Shobha, subconsciously guarding her.

"We require a message conveyed to –"

"Lord Balin…" Shobha added, finding the man less trustworthy.

"Aye? Well, like I said, it's a long way to go, to just pass a message to a Lord of Erebor…"

She finally understood what he was hinting at, and reaching to her neck removed the pendant hidden amongst her clothes and separated the gold locket Thorin gave her from the chain.

"Here, the gold chain is worth more than enough to get you there and back." She handed the chain over without hesitation, and then held up the locket, not ready to hand it over quite until she had instructed him fully. "The locket is not for you. Instead you must hand this to Lord Balin, and tell him, his sister is here. And I assure you, your information will earn you a reward, particularly if I can return safely."

An old woman had taken an interest in their conversation, having slowly hobbled her way over with a stick and carried on watching.

"Well then, my lady, I shall do better and ask you for a written note, should he fail to believe me…"

The woman moved closer still and then whispered something to Marekh, making him stare at Shobha further.

"My Grandmother says you are no dwarf, although you refer to this Dwarrow as a brother. But you also carry the child of a noble dwarf…" he began to speak, when a younger woman, clearly distressed rushed over and spoke to him hurriedly. "Your water is poisoned!"

Marekh looked at the woman, replying in an equally hurried tone.

"My niece has taken ill. She was drawing water from the brook –" he turned to the woman again quickly. "Go stop anyone from drinking! We will need to move –"

"It cannot be!" Ghan replied sternly. "We use the stream – and none have come to any harm. Let my healer take a look."

At first Shobha had wondered whether this had been a ploy to leave with the gold chain, but as they followed the woman towards a caravan within they found a young girl laying in a small bed looking very poorly indeed. She had a ghastly pallor to her skin, and clutched on to her stomach, groaning weakly as she lay there on her side.

Ghul moves closer, receiving a nod from her worried mother, and brushed the hair from her face, placing a hand on her forehead.

"How do you know she was poisoned?" Shobha looked from Marekh to the woman.

"She was perfectly fine before she went to draw water." Her mother replied kneeling beside her daughter who groaned once more, as Ghul pressed her stomach gently.

"She has no fever, and her stomach is soft, although it aches…"

"The poor child was sick after she returned back. And not long after, she even collapsed!" Her mother cried.

"What did she eat last?" Ghia asked, kneeling beside the girl.

"Cold meats, from yesterday. That was this morning, some hours ago…" the girls mother answered again.

"And you haven't eaten any berries, or fruits that you have found growing near the brook, where you collected water from?" Shobha asked from where she stood at the back of the group. "How much did she vomit..?"

"Aye - twice." The girls mother answered for her again.

Shobha walked over to where the girl lay, and carefully kneeling down took her wrist in her fingers to feel her pulse; it felt weak, and sluggish, and the girls hands felt icy cold. Marekh, and his sister were not wrong in their assumption that the girl had been poisoned, but it couldn't hVe been from the stream, since she had seen the Druedain children playing upstream herself.

"Her pulse is weak…" she whispered to Ghul before stroking the girls hair and quietly speaking to her, while scanning the space for any signs of frayed berries or fruits. "Hey, honey, did you pick anything or eat anything while you were at the brook?"

But they were interrupted by a tapping, and turning back she spotted Marekh's grandmother peer through the door, carrying a basket. She spoke louder in a different language, which Shobha recognised as Sindarin from her former lessons with Tauriel! And then the older woman held up a basket, which the girls mother rushed out and collected offering it up to Ghul and Shobha for inspection.

"Nana says Rosa foraged herbs for this evenings meal from near the brook…"

Standing up Shobha and Ghul looked into the basket.

"These are mostly herbs that I see no harm in eating…" Ghul began.

At the bottom of the basket Shobha spotted some larger leaves which did not look like normal herbs – in fact, it reminded her of the plants that grew around her parents little pond.

"Isn't this Lilly of the Valley?" She picked out a broad leaf, sniffed it and held it up, as Ghul reached out and took the leaf himself, smelling it.

"It looks like wild garlic, but you are right; it does not smell like wild garlic." He agreed, still unsure of what she referred to.

"This is a highly toxic plant!" She brought a leaf over to the young girl and held it for her to see. "Sweetheart, did you eat any of this?"

The girl, groaning again as she clutched her stomach, looking as though she would be sick once more, looked up at the leaf and then thinking for a bit, nodded.

"I have never seen this plant being eaten. We only ever forage certain types of plants and fruits in the forest." Ghul glanced at Ghia and then Shobha. "I am not certain what we could do…?"

"This contains poisons that will slow her heart…" Shobha strained to recall whether she had seen any sort of herbal antidote in Oin's potion books, but there was nothing she could think of. "All I know is this is very toxic… Ghul do you have any books or anything about this? Where is the nearest settlement –"

"Minas Tirith, or Edoras but both are some distance." Marekh offered.

Marekh's grandmother spoke again.

"Nana says, the girl will perish before she reaches either settlement and cannot recall any such treatments being available in Edoras anyway." Marekh translated.

"Activated charcoal." Shobha frowned. "We could try this. But we have to hurry, it's only useful if given as soon as the poisons been ingested."

"It has not been more than two hours since she went to fetch water." Rosa's mother offered encouragingly. "Please, Miss, I would try anything."

….

Shobha stood at the bench mixing more of the ground charcoal with the brine they had created. They had set her up outside under a makeshift tent and helped her with everything she had requested. It was not an exact formula, just what she recalled from her basic knowledge of chemistry and the stuff they gave patients back at home. She smiled thinking of how everything had come pre-prepared and packed in medicine back at home – with no potions, mixtures or vague measurements. Either way, her concoction seemed to be working- and she was thankful.

Dusk had set in several hours ago, and the camp fire burned on, tended to by several of the men as some walked about keeping watch, she imagined for Orcs. Ghul and Ghan had remained behind with her, while she had carried on producing batch after batch of a charcoal solution in an attempt to mop up the toxic plant. Luckily, Rosa appeared to have only eaten no more than one leaf, if even that, and they had picked it up early.

"Here, you rest, and I shall check on her next." Ghul patted her shoulder taking over stirring the thick grey mixture. He had taken it upon himself to grind the charcoal in his heavy stone mortar. "Our healing potions are as good as any other race in the land, but I cannot recall any prior knowledge of such a mixture…"

"Yes, well… it's from my home land. It binds the toxin in the gut." She replied sitting down and stretching her feet out in front of her. "I am hoping giving her enough will do the trick."

"It seems to be working well."

"Oh thank goodness! At least right now things are looking like they may settle." She admitted with great relief.

"Does it work for other poisons, do you know?" He asked out of curiosity.

"I think it does for a lot of poisons, but I couldn't be sure exactly what it might not work for." She admitted with a yawn, when suddenly she found a warm cup of tea slipped into her hands. Blinking, she looked up to spot Marekh's grandmother, watching her through crinkled, but very observant eyes. "Thank you."

"You journeyed to the south to meet with a seer… but you were unable to. Well I have the gift…" the older woman suddenly spoke in a clear and strangely commanding voice she had never heard from her before. "I can tell you, that a great power lies within you. One that can be used for great good… or unspeakable darkness."

Shobha turned towards her, as the old woman watched her with a face that showed far more alertness than she had demonstrated previously. She had even given the impression that she knew little or no Common tongue.

"You know this already though… don't you. You simply fear it." The woman carried on quietly. "You were willing to leave your love and the life you have here for it… but you should know that you were given these powers for a reason – you must use them no matter what. Darkness and light are all a part of this world, inextricably linked to one another."

Ghul had returned from checking on the girl by now, and Shobha wondered how much he had overheard. But just like a light being switched off, the old woman seemed to reach out and take the empty cup back from Shobha.

"Nettle soup. That's what the girl needs once she is better…" she muttered absentmindedly in her usual croaky voice again as she pottered away with her walking stick.

Shobha sat there completely speechless, when Ghul interrupted her.

"Rosa is much better now. I do not think there is a need for us to remain here now. We should return home, and you must rest properly." He gently urged. "I can return later in the day to check on her."

"I need to write a message to Balin and give it to Marekh –"

"Do you have anything you can use to seal it shut with a stamp?"

Shobha shook her head. Thorin had always insisted she wore her signet ring, but she hated official paperwork. Her handwriting had never been neat, Thorin and Balin often joked about how illegible it was. She had suddenly begun to miss computers and fine tipped gel pens. Parchment and quills really were not easy to use!

"Don't write anything you would not want these people to see. In my experience, Marekh is not like his father or grandfather." Ghul warned her quietly. "You can take your time to write it once you have slept properly. He owes you the journey to carry your message now, whether he likes it or not."

"Okay, but there was something else I needed from Marekh…"

…..

"Very kind of you, dear." Ghia smiled as she washed Gal's hair in their new copper bathtub. "Two is too much… and your poor beautiful hair…? What will King say?"

"Well, I couldn't fit into my old dress, my undershift was getting tight as well, and I couldn't keep wearing a cape as a dress. What would happen if I am here for much longer and the weather gets very cold? I needed these clothes. And one copper tub and a few clothes and shoes do not make a good trade in exchange for my hair." Shobha chuckled, tousling what was left of her hair that fell only just below her shoulders now. "Where I come from people pay a lot of money for Indian hair! And now you don't have to use your medicinal bath to have a wash in too. Not to mention that it's leaking! Consider this my way of saying thank you for looking after me. Although it's nowhere near what I truly owe you all for saving my life."

It had been two days since Marekh's people had packed up their caravans and left to travel North before winter truly set in. Rosa had recovered well, fortunately. And while she was not certain that her message would indeed reach anyone in Erebor, they were her only chance so far. She had already stayed with Ghul and his family for over a month now. If she stayed much longer, she would likely get trapped for the winter, and that would mean she would end up delivering her baby there!

No matter how much they tried to keep her cheerful, her desire for home, whether it was back in Erebor or her old life was begging to mount. And try as she might, it was getting harder and harder to pretend to be happy with each passing day. To make matters worse, she appeared to be unable to communicate using Osanwe at all with anyone! It was like her cellular reception was in a dead zone!

Considering all things as they were, chopping off a foot of her almost butt-length hair, which was frankly quite ostentatious for the life she currently led; and trading it for two copper bathtubs, a load of small trinkets for all the Druedain children and a handful of loose smocked warm clothes with full skirts, and petticoats with enough room to grow for at least another couple of months was absolutely the right thing to do. Even if Thorin and the dwarves would lament her deed, it would grow back in the end anyway.

Marekh's Nana and sister has both taken a liking to her, which had helped the trade anyway, and watching her work had earned her the reluctant respect of Ghan-Buri, the Chief and their people.

Now all she could do was keep herself busy and figure out why she found herself unable to use her gift, or find Thorin in her dreams…

Dear All

Thank you for following this ever complicated plot I am stringing together so far. This is my take on the Druedain, and Dol Amroth. Please do continue to leave me your thoughts and comments xx

She is going to give birth very soon now… so here is a question… what would you like to see baby-wise (Half Man-Dwarf babies = 'Mwarf' / 'Dwan' as what Shobha called them)… Single pregnancy or twins... and twin boys/girls or mix?

Special thank you to Picklefan and ColdOnePaul for your lovely comments – you really are keeping me going❤❤. I promise I will finish this story even if it takes me a little time (although not many more chapters left).