Chapter Eight: Rotelë


Azshar didn't trust herself to sleep for the rest of that night. Instead, she walked the gardens of Rivendell, avoiding other elves and thinking.

It was peaceful in the valley, quiet and beautiful and safe… but she'd been there two days and she already felt trapped. She was confident that her decision to go with Thorin, Bilbo and the dwarves was the right one.

When dawn broke, she found her way to the stables. She snuck inside and walked through, peering into each one of the stalls to see if she could find Winnie. She saw the horse at last, somewhere near the back of the dozens of stalls.

'Hey, my girl,' Azshar whispered, leaning over the gate and holding out her hand. Winnie nickered softly, recognising her and coming forward to nuzzle her shoulder. Azshar laughed.

'I didn't bring you food, sorry.' Winnie harrumphed, and Azshar stroked her nose. 'I came here to tell you goodbye. I'm leaving today, but we're going on foot. You are going to stay here, where you will be very happy.'

Winnie went for her hands again, looking for food, and Azshar pulled some hay out of a nearby manger for the horse to chew on. She didn't have long, she imagined, before the dwarves would be leaving the Last Homely House.

She heard the low murmur of a voice nearby, and she tensed where she stood. Her eyes widened when she caught sight of Glorfindel leading a snow-white horse back into its pen. He hadn't yet seen her, and she had the urge to shrink down behind the gate so she wouldn't have to speak with him.

He closed the gate on his horse, grabbing a handful of oats from a trough against the wall and feeding them to the horse. He looked… more open, more relaxed, Azshar thought. As though he wasn't bothering to keep his shields up around the animal. But, as if he'd heard her thinking aloud, he suddenly stiffened and looked up. He caught sight of her immediately.

She winced, gave Winnie one more pat, and reluctantly crossed the stables. He stared at her expressionlessly, his hand still on the neck of his horse. Azshar noticed his golden hair was windswept from riding.

'Good morning,' she said. Just hours ago, he'd been standing in the shadows outside her room, keeping watch while she dreamed of torture. She couldn't get it out of her mind.

Glorfindel continued to stare, his eyes the same colour as the ocean in the morning light. 'Good morning,' he replied at length.

'Were you just talking to your horse?' she asked, ignoring the fact that she'd been doing the same thing just moments ago. Glorfindel didn't need to know that.

He half shrugged. 'He makes better conversation than anyone else I know,' he said awkwardly, and Azshar blinked in surprise before she smiled. He'd made a joke. This was obviously good-mood-Glorfindel.

'He's a beauty,' she said. Glorfindel nodded in agreement, reaching up once more to run his hand down the horse's nose. There was a long beat of silence, and when Azshar met his eyes again, she saw that he was staring at her once more. She felt her cheeks redden, but she held his gaze for a long moment.

'You really remember nothing?' he said at last, his voice little more than a whisper.

Azshar shook her head. 'Truly,' she replied with a frown. 'Why won't you believe me?'

'I believe you,' he said noncommittally, stepping out of the stall and latching the gate behind him. His white horse nickered softly.

'Then why keep asking?'

'Because…' He hesitated, looking at her searchingly. 'Because I've dreamed about you,' he admitted. 'The truth is, I have had dreams about you. Many years ago now, and only once or twice. But it happened, and I'm certain it was you.'

Azshar blinked, letting out a slow breath. So, this was why Glorfindel had been staring at her. She had never dreamed of him, but that didn't mean he hadn't been a part of her past.

'Do you know me?' she whispered. 'Have we met?' Slowly, he shook his head, and just like that, her hopes were dashed. She sighed. 'Well, if I remember something that has to do with you, you'll be the first to know,' she said.

'But you'll be gone,' he said flatly, his cold mask back in place. It was a statement, not a question. She looked away and nodded.

'I can't stay here.'

'It is a foolish decision,' said Glorfindel. 'The dwarves care for nothing but their gold. That is the only loyalty that matters to them.'

'You're wrong,' she said bluntly, folding her arms in defence of the Company. 'They are my friends, and I flatter myself that I know more about them than you.'

'I have lived for thousands of years,' Glorfindel countered coolly, 'and one-year-old babies have longer memories than you. You can't trust them.'

Azshar clenched her jaw, but she knew she couldn't really argue with that point. 'Who should I trust then?' she asked. 'Elrond, who wants to lock me in my room? Gandalf, who is keeping secrets from me?'

'Trust no one,' Glorfindel replied with half a smirk. 'Then you'll never be betrayed.' He turned to leave, and on impulse, Azshar reached out and grabbed his arm. He stopped and stiffened, looking pointedly down at where she was touching him, and she quickly let go.

'Please don't tell Elrond,' she said, 'about me leaving.'

He stared at her for a moment, searching her eyes for something that he clearly didn't find. He looked away. 'You should hurry. Your friends have already left.'

Then he was gone, and Azshar was alone in the stables. Strangely, the more she thought about it, the surer she was that he would keep her secret. Elrond might find out that she'd gone, but it wouldn't be from Glorfindel.


She ran back to her room, ducking behind corners to avoid elves and faintly lamenting the fact that she was leaving just as she started to know her way around.

She picked up her cloak and her pack, double checking that her sword and dagger were securely attached to her belt. Then she left, closing the door behind her, and started jogging to where the dwarves had been sleeping.

Sure enough, they had already left. She felt a pang at the thought that they hadn't thought to say goodbye to her, or even let her know that they were going. The dwarves care for nothing but their gold, Glorfindel said. She shook her head. It didn't matter; she would just follow them.

Smiling briefly at the elves who passed her by, Azshar raced out of Rivendell, not bothering to look back.

She caught up to the Company in less than an hour. They were still climbing out of the valley, carrying their replenished supplies and full waterskins. Bifur and Bombur were already complaining about sore feet.

'Bombur's always complaining,' Glóin said as Azshar followed only a few feet behind them, as yet unnoticed. 'But what's gotten into your socks, Bifur?'

'It's this dratted pack,' Bifur growled, shifting it uncomfortably on his back. 'It just won't sit right!'

'So you've been saying,' Dwalin grumbled. 'For the past half hour.'

'It's heavy,' Bifur said obstinately.

'It's supposed to be heavy,' Bofur said helpfully. 'Remember? The elves gave us more food.'

'It isn't that,' Fíli said from the front of the pack. 'The reason Bifur's pack is so heavy is –'

'Fíli, shut up,' Kíli exclaimed, shoving his brother from behind.

'– because Kíli put rocks in it before we left!'

Everyone except Bifur and Thorin started laughing. Thorin sighed and turned around.

'And you thought that would be funny, Kíli?' he asked, raising a regal eyebrow. Everyone stopped laughing, and Kíli suddenly looked like a child who had been caught wearing his mother's jewels.

'No?' he replied nervously. Thorin sighed again.

'Bifur, swap packs with Kíli.'

They did so, and Kíli shamefacedly put on the pack without taking out the rocks. It was then that Balin squinted at Azshar, then shook his head and laughed, turning to Dwalin.

'I must really be losing my eyesight,' he said. 'I thought I just saw Azshar.'

'Azshar's back!' Ori cried. Dori made a sound of disgust but looked secretly pleased to see her. Fíli, Kíli and Bilbo clapped, Nori grinned, and Óin came over to thump her on the back. Thorin rolled his eyes, and Gandalf glared at her.

'We all thought you were staying to become a proper elf,' Bofur said.

'A proper elf?' she repeated, bewildered.

'We liked you when you were travelling with us,' Bombur explained. 'But then you came out in Rivendell all dressed up and clean, and we thought you'd changed teams, so to speak.'

'And if it looks like a duck and walks like a duck,' said Dwalin.

'And quacks like a duck,' Kíli chimed in.

'And smells like a duck,' Fíli added, looking at her dubiously.

'Then it's an elf,' Bifur finished wisely.

'Point being, we thought you were going to stay,' Glóin said. 'But we're glad you've decided to re-join the quest.'

'Azshar,' Gandalf barked. 'A word, if you please.'

Azshar winced, smiled at the sympathetic dwarf faces around her, and jogged up so she was walking at the head of their procession with Gandalf. He opened his mouth to start speaking, but she cut him off.

'I'm not going back, Gandalf.' He shot her a look of piercing disapproval, and she shrugged. 'I have been comprehensively warned about the dangers of being out in the wild, both to my person and my memory, and I have decided it is worth the risk.'

'How wonderful for you,' Gandalf said with obviously false pleasantness.

'Gandalf,' Azshar said frustratedly. 'Anything that might happen to me out here… it's better than sitting around for centuries, waiting for something to happen. Can't you understand that?'

'This is very unlike you,' he said with a frown. 'It's foolish and reckless.'

'I prefer to think of it as foolhardy, not foolish,' Azshar said optimistically.

The wizard sighed. 'Azshar, if you are determined to accompany a group of dwarves you have only known for a few weeks on a dangerous quest which has very little to do with you, I know better than to attempt to stop you. But this is not my quest.' He jerked his head back at Thorin, who rolled his eyes. 'Ask the king.'

Azshar smiled at Gandalf, trying to communicate her gratefulness, but the wizard merely grumbled and looked away, clearly still unhappy. She fell back to walk alongside Thorin.

'Hello, Thorin,' she said, glancing down at him.

'Hello Azshar,' he said stonily, staring straight ahead. She shrugged, pulling her best weapon from her arsenal.

'Do you remember when I killed a troll in an attempt to save your life?'

He sighed wearily. 'Yes.'

'Hm. What a day that was. Anyway, would you mind very much if I joined the Company, in earnest this time?'

Thorin looked the closest to tears that she'd ever seen him. 'Fine,' he ground out. 'Now go walk with someone else.'

Azshar grinned and fell back to walk between Balin and Bilbo. Balin leaned over to whisper to her.

'You know, I didn't mean to be eavesdropping,' he said, 'but that was very well played.'

'Thank you,' she whispered back, her grin widening. They crested the valley of Imladris at last, and Azshar took one last look over her shoulder before turning away for good.

'Off to the Misty Mountains!' Dwalin crowed.

'Are there trolls in the mountains?' Azshar asked, turning back to keep walking. 'Or have we left them behind in the Trollshaws?'

'Certainly not,' said Ori. 'In fact, trolls prefer the mountains, since there is an abundance of caves and –'

'Shut up, Ori,' said Dori.

Beside Azshar, Bilbo sighed heavily. She glanced down at the hobbit and raised an eyebrow. 'Everything alright, Bilbo?'

'I just wish we could have stayed,' Bilbo whispered. 'Just for a few days longer.'

'Ah,' she said. 'You know, I do too. Just a few days.'

'I never imagined that a place like that could be out in the world,' he said. 'I never knew that any of this was out here. I wonder if I'll be able to go back to the Shire, knowing.'

She squeezed his shoulder gently. 'You'll come back,' she said. 'When the dragon is dead and the Mountain is Thorin's, you'll come back here and take all the time you need.'

Bilbo smiled up at her, and without another word, they marched on towards the east.

Rivendell was not far from the Misty Mountains.

It wasn't many days at all before they loomed above the Company, and for a while, they travelled in their shadow. They didn't see the sun until late morning, well into the day, but Azshar didn't mind; the mountains were huge, and their majesty outshone any she'd ever seen before – at least, any that she could remember.

The dwarves debated at length whether the Misty Mountains were better than their home in the Blue Mountains, on the other side of the Shire, and Azshar listened with quiet amusement.

'They're certainly bigger,' Bofur said, 'if that counts for anything.'

'Size isn't everything,' Dwalin grunted. Fíli snorted.

'The Blue Mountains might be small,' Ori said staunchly, 'but they have strong foundations, and good stone. And they're terribly old, and, well, they used to have wonderful silver mines.'

'What's more, Khazad-dûm is in the Misty Mountains,' Dori said, 'though we will not be going near it.'

'What is Khazad-dûm?' Azshar asked, stumbling over the guttural Khuzdul words.

'The elves call it Moria,' Balin answered mistily. 'It is – was – the greatest of all the dwarven realms.'

'But it is lost now,' Bifur said threateningly. 'Now, the only things that are under this mountain are –'

'Better not to talk about things that go bump in the night, don't we think?' Nori said loudly, coming over and jerking his head to point out Bilbo, who had been listening with wide eyes. Duly chastened, Bifur began to tell a less frightening story about how the columns of Moria's great hall had been carved.

'What lives under the mountains?' Azshar whispered to Nori, more curious than afraid. He shrugged, leaning on his battle axe like a walking stick.

'Goblins,' he said. 'Orcs and orc spawn. There are tales of Durin's Bane, but… they are for scaring children. I hope.'

'Durin as in the Durin?' Azshar asked, trying to keep her voice low. She'd been travelling with the Company long enough that she knew a thing or two about the long-dead dwarven king. 'The thing that killed the Durin is under these mountains?'

'Bedtime stories, like I said,' Nori insisted.

'What exactly is Durin's Bane?'

Nori sighed, and lowered his voice further still. 'Have you ever heard of… balrogs?'

Azshar jerked upright, the word striking something inside her. There was the uncomfortable sensation of pieces of her mind knitting themselves back together, and then she gasped as pain shot through her head, whiting out her sight and filling her ears with ringing.

She knew what balrogs were. They were huge, horrible creatures who fought with weapons of fire. They were sadistic and ruthless. They served… someone terrible whose name remained just out of reach.

Azshar opened her eyes as the pain slowly faded and the ringing went away. Nori was watching her with concern, and she gave him a strained smile. Had that been what Elrond was warning of? Nori had accidentally triggered a memory, and she had suffered for it – and that had barely been a memory at all. What would happen when whole memories started returning?

'I know what a balrog is,' she said, clearing her throat. 'Not very nice.'

'No,' Nori agreed. 'But if we were to face it, I have to say, you are a fearsome sight in that lovely new elvish tunic of yours.'

Azshar smiled despite her persisting headache. 'Ugh, Nori –'

'Yellow like a daisy and soft as silk. Maybe you could seduce the balrog before it kills us –'

'Nori!' she laughed, shaking her head. 'It's better than the man-made one I was wearing before. Not to mention the fact that it fits me, and I can move in it very well.'

'Can you move yourself up the damned mountain?' Dwalin called back, and Azshar realised the Company had stopped to wait for them.

'Sorry,' Nori and Azshar said as one, and they jogged over to catch up. Azshar smirked back at him. She may have been wearing a pretty elven tunic, but she was still faster, and Nori knew it.

It took them a day to get properly up into the mountains, and even then, the climbing wasn't done. The path was rocky, steep and precarious, hugging the edges of cliffs as often as not. The dwarves didn't seem to be bothered by it, and Azshar and Gandalf were sure-footed, but Bilbo was terrified.

He squeaked audibly once every few minutes, and though it was getting to be late afternoon, Azshar hadn't seen him stop trembling since it had started raining at midday.

'Thorin,' she called ahead, feeling sorry for the hobbit. 'We've made good time. Couldn't we stop for the day?'

'There's a time limit on this quest now,' Thorin called back. 'We need to get to the Lonely Mountain by Durin's Day, or we'll have to wait another year for a chance to get inside. We stop when it's too dark to go on!'

'We won't be able to go on if this storm grows any worse,' Balin muttered worriedly, and Óin rumbled his agreement.

'I feel sure it will grow worse,' Ori said. 'I can feel it in my bones.'

'You're the youngest here,' Bifur snorted. 'If you can feel the weather in your bones, mine ought to be crumbling in my body.'

'And Balin's would be dust,' Dwalin grinned.

'Just shut up, Ori,' Dori sighed.

'You'll be able to replace your bones with gold when we get to Erebor anyway,' Fíli said.

'I wouldn't spend my share on new bones,' Ori said dreamily. 'I would save it.'

'Hoard it like a proper dwarf,' Nori laughed. 'Good lad.'

'I might spend mine,' Kíli said. 'New armour, better weapons, finer clothes… I would live like a lord.'

'You're the nephew of the king,' Bombur said. 'You are a lord.'

'What will you spend your share on, Bilbo?' Bofur asked.

'I'm sure I don't – ah! – know,' he said, slipping on a rock in the middle of his sentence. 'I have no need for fancy armour, and I like my own clothes very much.'

'Perhaps some food to restock your larder after the party we had there?' Azshar suggested. 'You could buy some books too, if you liked.'

'You could buy anything you like,' Balin said. 'The riches of Erebor are unparalleled.'

'What about you then, lass?' Glóin asked Azshar. 'What would an elf do with a share of the treasure?'

'A tree?' Nori sniggered. The others laughed.

'No, no – she could buy herself a view of the stars,' Bifur said, and the sound of laughter rang out over the cliff.

'Or perhaps she could buy a stick,' Dori said, 'so that she could be a proper elf and shove it up her –'

'Dori!' exclaimed Fíli, Ori and Balin.

Just then, a bolt of lightning struck the mountain opposite the company with an ear-splitting crack. Azshar gasped, Bilbo shrieked, and several of the dwarves bellowed in shock.

'Keep going,' Thorin shouted into the gathering darkness. 'Just keep moving!'

'We're too exposed!' Dwalin called back.

'We won't solve that by staying here!'

A second bolt of lightning struck the mountain, this one closer, and broke a huge portion of rock away.

'Let's go!' Bifur shouted, and they began to jog along the twisting, slippery path. It was getting darker and harder to see, and for a path that was already dangerous, it was becoming deadly.

'Be careful, Bilbo,' Azshar yelled.

'I'm trying!' he bellowed back. The rain intensified, and in front of her, Fíli nearly lost his footing. They needed to find shelter, fast.

It was nearly another ten minutes before they found a spot good enough to hide from the storm. It was a cave with a mouth only about as tall as Azshar and as wide as Bombur, but the cave itself was a lot more spacious.

The cave was protected from the wind and rain, so it felt warmer than it was outside. Azshar took off her cloak and shook it off, then wrung the water from the hem of her tunic. There was a veritable puddle around her when she was done.

'We'll make camp here for the night,' Thorin said grudgingly. 'Sooner than expected, but we won't be going any further today.'

'And thank goodness for that,' Bilbo breathed.

'I'll be taking advantage of this,' Balin said, putting down his pack and unrolling his blanket. 'I'll cut off my beard before I take the watch tonight.'

'Me too,' said Dori quickly.

'And me,' said Bombur.

'And me!' said Kíli.

'I'll take the watch,' Azshar said with a faint smile, pulling her cloak back on for warmth. 'I don't know what you lazy dwarves would do without me.'

'I'll babysit the elf,' Nori said, sitting down heavily at the mouth of the cave. No one wanted to complain, and in short order, the thirteen of them were all cocooned in their bedrolls and snoring.

Azshar sighed and looked out at the darkness. The storm was raging outside, but in their little cave, everything was peaceful. She felt her eyes grow heavy, so she rubbed them stubbornly and stared into the night.

She hadn't slept since they'd left Rivendell. Gandalf had noticed, and so had Thorin, but neither of them had commented as of yet. Her fatigue was growing, though, and she knew it was a matter of time before she'd have to give in and sleep – and dream.

Before the nightmares had started happening, she'd almost looked forward to her dreams. They were windows into her past, glimpses at the family and relationships that had once defined her. Now they had become agonising.

But screaming in her sleep wasn't just a matter of pride anymore; it was a matter of safety. She might draw unwanted attention to the company, compromising their position, or wake the dwarves from much needed sleep.

The hours slowly passed, and night fell. Outside, it was fully dark. The storm had mostly passed, but the rain continued heavy and constant. A wind gusted by the cave, and though it was still summer, it had a mountain chill to it.

Azshar and Nori both froze where they were when they both saw the same thing at the same time: the shadow of a man flashing past the cave entrance. Everything was still for a moment, then Azshar whipped her head back to count the sleepers in the cave, but they were all accounted for – twelve dwarves, a hobbit, and a wizard. It was someone else.

She shook her head at Nori, who quietly got to his feet and picked up his axe.

'One minute,' he mouthed at her, and she nodded. He disappeared out into the night.

Azshar drew her sword and bit her lip, waiting for him to reappear and counting slowly in her head. The seconds dragged on, and there was neither sound nor sign of Nori's return. The rain pattered outside. Azshar bounced on the balls of her feet. 4… 3… 2…

'Azshar,' came Nori's voice, and he reappeared, wiping rain out of his face.

'What happened?' she whispered. 'Is someone there?'

'Aye, someone is,' he said. 'And he wants to speak to you.' He jerked his head to the mouth of the cave. 'He's waiting. Shout if you need me.'

She stared at Nori, baffled, but he didn't offer any further explanation. Azshar sheathed her sword, pulled up her hood, and went out into the rain.

Her eyes were already adjusted to the dark, so it only took seconds for her to see him, a few metres up the path: Glorfindel. She determined not to look surprised, and instead she came to a stop before him looking – or at least, trying to look – like she'd been expecting him.

'Glorfindel,' she said.

'Hello,' he replied in Sindarin. It was dark, but she could still make out his face. It was stony and expressionless as usual.

'I don't suppose you want to tell me what you're doing here?' she asked, shivering slightly in a gust of wind. Glorfindel eyed her slightly uncomfortably.

'I've come for you,' he said. 'Elrond sent me to find you and bring you back.'

'Ah,' she said. 'So, he didn't take my disappearance too well.'

'He thinks it's dangerous for you to be away from Rivendell,' said Glorfindel evenly.

'And what did he think of you doing nothing to stop me from leaving?' Azshar asked, raising an eyebrow. Glorfindel pursed his lips.

'I didn't tell him I knew,' he admitted.

'And you still did his bidding and ran after me,' she said. 'How loyal you are, when you choose to be.'

He shrugged. 'It wasn't hard to find you.' His eyes, inky black in the low light, flicked up to her face, and she shivered again.

'What will you do, then?' she asked. 'Fight thirteen dwarves to drag me back to Rivendell against my will? Lock me away in a room for centuries so I will be safe?'

'No.'

'Then what?' She stared up at him defiantly. 'Tell him I overpowered you and demanded to be let go?'

The corner of Glorfindel's mouth twitched upwards. 'If I am to lie, it will need to be something more believable,' he said.

Azshar bristled despite herself. 'I can fight. I can't remember how I learned, but I know how.'

'I heard you killed a troll,' Glorfindel conceded, and she nodded. 'But… then you got yourself captured.'

'Very nice,' she said, rolling her eyes. 'That was almost a compliment.'

'Do you wish to return to Imladris with me?' he asked, ignoring her gibe.

'No, I do not.'

'Very well,' he said. 'I will tell Elrond I presented you with his argument, and you refused to comply with my request.'

'And he will accept that?'

'It will cost me many more weeks of travel if he does not. And besides, I do not intend to return to Rivendell right away.'

She stared at him, biting her lip thoughtfully. She wondered if he was helping her because of the dreams he said he'd had of her, or because he thought it was the right thing to do. Either way, she was grateful. She looked down.

'Thank you, Glorfindel.' He nodded, watching her detachedly. 'Do you want to come into the cave for the night?' she offered. 'The weather is terrible, it's dangerous to travel.'

He shook his head. 'I doubt I would be welcome,' he replied. She nodded; he was right, Thorin would be furious that the company had been followed from Rivendell.

'Then…' she hesitated, but she ploughed on before she could change her mind. 'Will you stay a while, and speak with me?'

He looked taken aback for a beat, but then he raised an uncaring eyebrow in a way that she could tell was supposed to hurt her.

'Speak about what?' he said. 'There is no point in delaying.'

She looked down, glad for the darkness hiding her embarrassment. The rain had soaked through her hood by now, and water was running down her face. 'Fine,' she said shortly. 'Goodbye.'

She turned to go, fists clenched. This was another excellent reason to have left Rivendell; she couldn't handle the double standards and the games that all the elves seemed to be playing. Dwarves, thank the stars, were simple.

'Wait,' came a reluctant call behind her, and she glanced back over her shoulder.

'Yes?'

He stared at her, shadows lining his face. 'There's – something else,' he muttered, barely audible above the rain. Then he held out a hand to her, offering her a little drawstring pouch. 'I brought this for you.'

She took a step nearer to him, looking at the pouch with a frown. 'What is it?'

'Have you slept since you left Imladris?' he asked, his arm still extended, and she looked away before shaking her head.

'Not yet, no.'

'This might help,' he said. 'Use it when you know you're safe for the night, because it will make you sleep deeply. And it won't just get rid of the nightmares, but all dreams.'

She took the bag and tucked it into her cloak, completely perplexed by Glorfindel's strange act of kindness. 'Did you ever… use it?' she asked carefully, letting the rest of her question hang in the air unsaid.

Glorfindel's eyes held hers, and something in them softened fractionally. 'The dreams I had of you… they weren't nightmares,' he said quietly. 'I used the flowers to stop myself dreaming of other things.'

She stared at him. How old was he? When she'd spoken to him in Rivendell he'd said he wasn't just centuries, but millennia old. What had he seen?

Opposite her, Glorfindel stiffened, staring over her shoulder and frowning. His hand raised to hover over his sword, and Azshar did the same, twisting to look back at the cave.

'What is it?'

'Your friend, the dwarf,' he said slowly. 'He was sitting in the mouth of the cave, watching us – but he just disappeared.'

Sure enough, Nori was gone. Azshar frowned. 'Perhaps he just –'

She heard shouting at the same time Glorfindel did, and they drew their swords as one and ran towards the cave.

'Watch out!' Dwalin bellowed.

'Thorin, behind you!'

'Throw me my axe, quick!'

'Ow!'

'Help me, Dori, help –'

But the second they reached the cave, it fell utterly silent – and the cave was totally empty, except for the empty bedrolls. Azshar stared inside incredulously. 'What…?'

Glorfindel, seeing something she didn't, strode to the back of the cave and pushed against the rock there. It didn't budge, and he turned back to her.

'Azshar, pull out your dagger,' he said urgently. She did, and to her shock, it was glowing blue. She almost dropped it, and her breath caught in her throat.

'Orcs,' Glorfindel muttered, and he strode back to her and grabbed her arm. 'Let's go.'

'Wait, no!' she exclaimed. 'Where – where are the dwarves?'

'Azshar, this cave is an entrance to a goblin colony,' he said, his voice hard. 'The stone at the back was rolled aside and your friends were ambushed.'

'So we go after them,' she said determinedly, trying to pull her arm from his grip.

'No,' Glorfindel said flatly.

'Glorfindel –'

'Do you even remember what an orc is?' he asked sharply, and she stopped. He had a point, and he knew it. Nodding as his suspicion was confirmed, he began pulling her out of the cave. Starting to panic, she dug in her heels.

'I can't leave them behind! They're my friends!'

'You've known them for half a summer.'

'Please, Glorfindel, please,' she said desperately, her eyes wide. He stopped and stared at her, his jaw tight. 'Please,' she whispered again, and he let out a frustrated hiss of breath.

'Fine. Fine. We can't get in here, but there are dozens of other entrances to their cave system. We'll find one of them.'

He let go of her and strode from the cave, and Azshar let out a breath before following him out. The rain bucketed down around them, but she paid no mind to it, following Glorfindel headlong down the narrow path. There was a rescue to be had.


Not my best cliffhanger, but it had to be done before the chapter became a monster. Stay tuned to find out whether Azshar falls off the path, and to experience cameo number one by the eagles. Catch you then :)

S