Bilbo ran through the trees, Fili and Kili right behind him, toward the camp.
"Orcs!" he cried out.
They had been on their way back from filling the waterskins in the early morning when a group of orcs had spotted them from the other side of the river. The foul creatures were not far behind them, but the river had at least given them enough delay to get back to the group.
The company was quickly armed, their packs and bedrolls abandoned as they met the hobbit and youngest dwarves at the edge of camp.
Bilbo ran past and stopped beside Gandalf and Andréa to catch his breath as their adversaries descended on the company. Soon they were surrounded, weapons flinging and clanging in all directions.
Thorin noticed an orc about to strike down Bilbo and rushed to defend him, kicking Bilbo to the ground to clear the path of his sword, which cleaved the orc in half.
He turned to block another orc, as yet another came up behind him.
An axe flew by, thrown by Dwalin into the head of an orc that was about to strike Ori.
Thorin plunged his sword deep into the first orc's chest, and turned to deal with the second, only to find that Andréa had slipped between them.
She thrust her sword up through the orc's neck into his skull, then pulled it loose and moved to let his corpse fall beside her.
As another two crested the hill behind them, Kíli shot one in the head.
Andréa followed the arrow's path back to where he was standing and rushed to block an orc that was coming up behind him as he readied another shot. She shielded from the orc's attack with her sword, which pushed her against Kíli's back as he shot the second oncoming orc. As he turned to help her, she raised her staff with her left hand and a blue flame engulfed the orc's face, killing it.
Kíli blinked in shock at the sight, then looked around tentatively.
The group grew quiet, no living orcs visible in the vicinity.
The dwarves slowly moved closer to each other, waiting to see if another would appear.
Andréa crouched to touch her hand to the ground, closing her eyes. "There's one left, fleeing west." She started walking in that direction.
"Better to leave it," Gandalf advised.
She stopped on the edge of the hill, looking down through the trees. She gestured, grimacing. "But I can see it. It's getting away."
Kíli appeared at her side and loosed an arrow. It stuck in the orc's head, and the creature fell to the ground and grew still.
"Or not," she amended, looking up at the young dwarf with admiration.
He flashed her a proud grin.
As Kíli and Andréa rejoined the group, Fíli approached.
"You are quite skilled in battle," he said with mild surprise.
Her face sombered somewhat, voice low. "I hate orcs."
"Naturally," Kíli agreed. "But they were no match for the company."
She gave him a silent look, then got distracted by Bilbo. He was bent over with his hands on his knees, catching his breath.
"Are you alright, Bilbo?" She asked gently, offering him a waterskin that had been tossed to the ground before the fray.
He took it from her gratefully. "Oh, yes, I'm- Of course, why wouldn't I be," he wheezed, before drinking deeply.
She put her hand on his shoulder. "You did well to be so evasive."
He shrugged, unconvinced. "Ah… Hobbit."
"I see well now why they chose you as a burglar," she smiled.
He looked up at her with gratitude for her friendliness, but shook his head. "I just got lucky."
Thorin looked around the group. "Is anyone injured?"
A sea of shaking heads were the reply.
"Then let's get moving."
As they gathered their packs and ponies, Bilbo gave an acknowledging nod to Thorin, as thanks for having protected him from the orc that he'd cleaved in half.
Thorin scoffed and turned away.
Useless hobbit, Thorin huffed internally. He'd warned Gandalf that he couldn't guarantee the hobbit's safety, and here they were, their first scuffle, and Mr. Baggins didn't even have a weapon. What sort of man didn't know how to defend himself? He's going to get himself killed.
As Andréa readied her pony, Dwalin stopped beside her and handed her a waterskin.
"Oh." She blinked as she took it. "Thank you."
He simply nodded and kept on, leaving her to stare after him in confusion before climbing on to Pansy.
The next night, Fíli was putting pipeweed in his pipe when Andréa sat down near him.
She looked over at it curiously.
"May I have some of that?" she asked, pointing to his loose crop.
Fíli raised a brow but grabbed a generous pinch and placed it in her palm.
"Thank you." She grinned and closed her hand, using the other to rummage in her bag.
"You have a pipe?" Fíli laughed. She didn't strike him as the type, and she certainly hadn't pulled it out on any prior nights.
"No."
Kíli and Fíli exchanged a confused look.
She pulled out a leather satchel the size of her fist and placed the tobacco inside, then shook it up to mix with whatever was already in the bag. Then she placed the satchel back inside her pack.
Fíli felt like he'd been tricked. "You're not going to smoke it?"
Kíli tried not to laugh, finding her quite odd. "You just… wanted to have it?"
"No, I have a use in mind.""And that is?"
"To look ahead."
The brothers stared at her in confusion.
She chewed her lip. "It might be easier to show you."
They watched as she stood up, walking over to the campfire with her staff. She dipped the top of it into the fire to light it. The flames that burned around the blue glass were an unnatural teal that did not singe the wood.
This caught the attention of several of the dwarves, as well as Bilbo and Gandalf, who watched as she walked back to Fíli and Kíli with her strange torch.
She sat before them again, laying her staff on the ground so that the little fire was between them. Then she pulled out the satchel and took a pinch of its contents, sprinkling them over it, which turned the fire blue.
She muttered softly in Quenya.
The pieces of dried weeds and other plants burned in the flames and began to glow as deep indigo embers, floating above the staff's gem. A thick grey smoke swirled around the embers as they formed the shape of a farmhouse.
Kíli leaned forward, mouth ajar. He looked from the embers to Andréa, who seemed to be in a trance. Her eyes reflected the blue flames but her gaze was beyond them.
Gandalf approached silently to watch, Bilbo and Thorin each moving to do the same.
The embers and smoke swirled around again, the blue bits of burning plants becoming the image of a dragon flying through the hazy smoke, roaring fire in a tight circle.
Kíli and Fíli glanced at each other with concern.
The images changed again, the glowing bits seeming to resemble two figures of different heights; the larger bearing a hat like Gandalf's. The smaller figure might have been a dwarf. Before the glowing figures, the smoke formed many others that matched the height of the burning Gandalf.
The pipeweed kicked up once more, forming two large shapes that crashed and became a mountain. The smoke thinned into a fine line that snaked along one side of the mountain before swirling into the form of a bird that flew up and away, pulling the embers along with it into seven stars.
Thorin narrowed his eyes, wondering at the meaning of these visions.
The fire on the staff suddenly extinguished, along with the embers, and the smoke dissipated into the air.
"Your skills have improved," Gandalf commended.
She blinked and seemed to come back to her body. She took a deep breath, as though she'd been holding it, and looked up at him from the ground. "What?"
"You've gotten better at that," he repeated.
Her voice was quiet as she looked down to the glass in her staff. "Thank you."
He looked her over and frowned slightly. "What troubles you?"
She glanced at Fíli and Kíli, then back up to Gandalf. She spoke in Quenya. "They don't trust the elves."
He let out a small laugh. "Well, we knew that before we began." He turned to walk away. "Don't let it concern you."
Kíli noted the concerned and distrusting expression Andréa had as she watched the grey wizard walk away. It bothered him that she'd spoken in another tongue. "Don't let what concern you? The dragon?"
She looked over to him, brows raised. "No, that's not-" she pursed her lips and frowned, unsure what she should say.
She put the satchel of weeds back into her pack and sighed, looking back to them. "May I give you a word of advice?"
Thorin feigned not to be listening as his nephews nodded. They leaned forward curiously.
Her mouth curled into a secretive smile. "Your path is lined with strange allies."
Kíli's brow raised. "Stranger than wizards and hobbits?"
Andréa stifled a laugh. "No. Surely I'll be the strangest of all." She winked at him, which made him smile.
She looked over to where Gandalf had sat down on the other side of camp, her smile fading slowly. "But perhaps the most loyal," she murmured.
The brothers exchanged a look.
Thorin looked to Bilbo, raising a brow. Bilbo raised his brows and shrugged, concerned that the dwarf king seemed to think he might know what she meant by that, and doubly concerned that she had implied Gandalf wasn't loyal to the company.
Late one afternoon, the group came across the ruins of a farm in the countryside.
"Now, see here, Peony," Gandalf called, gesturing to Andréa to follow him.
"Peony?" Kíli raised a brow.
Gandalf nodded. "Peony Andréa."
"Like the flower?"
Andréa turned to see the group of dwarves trying not to laugh. "Do you mock my name?"
At this, several of them let out laughs and snorts.
Kíli raised his hands, a laugh in his voice as he grinned. "No, not at all. It's… cute."
Bilbo - who didn't see what was funny, but did like the name - shrugged. "I've always liked peonies."
She glared at the lot of them and pointed her staff. "You may call me Andréa."
The dwarves composed themselves, but shared glances and raised brows.
She turned back to Gandalf. "And I shall ask you to stop calling me by my childhood name as well, Mithrandir."
He smirked, teasing her. "Oh, but it is cute."
She stuck her tongue out at him.
"You know, you used to show me a lot more respect."
She feigned confusion. "I don't recall that."
Gandalf let out a laugh and clapped her shoulder. "Perhaps you're right."
She looked up at him affectionately, grinning at the sound of his raspy laugh. She put her hand over his and spoke in Quenya, "You have my respect."
He nodded in thanks. "As I was saying-"
Andréa followed Gandalf into the ruined house.
"A farmer and his family used to live here."
She looked about the space as he did, wondering silently if he had determined that from the wreckage, or if he'd known them at some point.
"I think it would be wiser to move on," Gandalf called to Thorin. "We could make for the hidden valley."
She perked up at the mention of Rivendell.
Thorin entered the house wreckage. "I have told you already. I will not go near that place."
"Why not? The elves could help us! We could get food, rest, advice."
"I do not need their advice," Thorin growled.
"We have a map that we cannot read. Lord Elrond could help us."
Andréa's brow raised. This was the first she'd heard of the map, but certainly Elrond was an ally of hers and Gandalf's. She was about to agree with Gandalf when Thorin spoke.
"Help?" he scoffed. "A dragon attacks Erebor. What help came from the elves? Orcs plunder Moria, desecrate our sacred halls. The elves looked on and did nothing."
Andréa looked to Gandalf mournfully. Thorin was right; naturally he wouldn't trust them.
Gandalf met her gaze and pursed his lips, unsure how to argue the point.
Thorin stepped closer to Gandalf. "You ask me to seek out the very people who betrayed my grandfather. Who betrayed my father."
"You are neither of them. I did not give you that map and key for you to hold onto the past."
"I did not know that they were yours to keep!"
Gandalf looked over to Andréa, and was met with a distrusting expression from the young wizard. He sighed heavily and walked off, shaking his head. He lamented how easily she was swayed by the dwarf leader.
"Everything alright?" Bilbo asked as Gandalf walked by. "Gandalf, where are you going?"
"To seek the company of the only one around here that has any sense!"
"And who's that?"
"MYSELF! Mr. Baggins." He grumbled as he walked past the rest of the company. "I've had enough of dwarves for one day."
"I don't like this place either," Andréa murmured, looking up at the fractured roof. It reminded her of her vision in the smoke.
Thorin narrowed his eyes at her. "Why don't you join Gandalf, then?"
She met his gaze. "My place is with the company. I follow you."
"Mm." He nodded respectfully and started walking away.
Bilbo entered the ruin and looked to Andréa with distress. "Is he going to come back?"
She shrugged. "I imagine."
"What's so awful about this dilapidated farmhouse?" Kíli asked, stepping over one of the broken walls to sit on it.
"Seems cozy enough," Fíli agreed, doing the same.
Andréa put her hand on one of the support beams. "Looks like our house after my mother passed."
Kíli looked up at her with concern. "What happened?"
Fíli smacked his arm, but Andréa took a deep breath.
"Mm. I was small, so… it's a bit hazy." She sat down beside Kíli and stared into the middle distance.
"I woke up in my father's arms. He was running, and it was so dark I couldn't see anything around us. But I heard… awful sounds behind us. Breaking. Roaring. He told me to be silent, so I didn't ask what was happening. I knew. I knew it was something terrible. I could see it on his face."
Bilbo sat down against the opposite wall, deep concern on his face.
Andréa licked her lips. "We hid in a hollow tree in the woods. I must have fallen asleep again at some point, because I remember waking up after the sun rose. I don't think he slept. I had never seen him like that. My father, you know, he wasn't the sort to be afraid," she smiled sadly. "But, he must have stood watch all night after running me there. He looked… empty."
The company had all slowly gathered around, some out of sight, to listen to her story.
"After some hours, we walked back to the house. I couldn't bring myself to ask him what happened to my mother, but… when we got there, I saw. Orcs had-" she paused to steady her breathing. "Orcs had come and-" She swallowed. "They just left her there, in the field."
She clutched her necklace through her shirt. "The house was black and burned. There was almost nothing we could save. So, we dug a grave. And we wept. And the next day my father said, 'Let's go on an adventure', and we never spoke of it again."
She looked up at Kíli. His face was distressed, and she felt a pang of guilt for having shared such a sad story.
"Oh, don't make that face." She put her hand on his arm as though to comfort him. "It's alright. It was a long time ago."
Kíli recalled how she'd sat up the night they'd teased Bilbo about night raids by orcs.
"Your father never spoke of her after that?" Bilbo asked.
She smiled and waved her hand. "No, he spoke of her often. About how much I looked like her, or how she liked this or that food he was trying to get me to eat." Her grin faded. "Just not of that night."
"A father's got to protect his bairn." Gloin stepped closer, and only then did she realize that they'd all gathered around the house.
Thorin stood in the doorway. "I am sorry for your loss," he offered respectfully.
She put her hands up, wincing at the attention. "N-No, it's fine. Worse things have happened to most of you. And even to me since then-"
Dori stepped forward, brow raised in distress. "Worse things have happened to you than your home being burned down by orcs and digging your mother's grave?"
She rubbed her arm and shrugged. "Well… Yes?"
Several in the group started talking at once.
She put her hands up. "I didn't tell that story to upset all of you."
Bofur stepped forward, forcing an aloof expression. "Who's upset? Dwalin, are you upset?"
Dwalin grunted, as if offended by the question.
"I'm a bit upset," Bilbo lamented.
Andréa stood up. "I don't want you to be upset, Bilbo." She put her hands out to him, to help him up. "I think we should make camp, be merry, and have a proper rest so we can keep on in the morning."
Thorin looked over to his nephews. "You heard her. Fíli, Kíli, look after the ponies. Make sure you stay with them. Óin, Gloin, get a fire going."
Andréa had followed Thorin's nephews to where they were keeping the ponies for the night. She was grateful for their good humour after her gloomy story, and the lack of follow up questions, and soon she'd forgotten about it entirely. She ran her fingers through Pansy's mane, praising the pony for her hard work.
Kíli walked up and leaned over so his hair fell loose in his face. "Oh, me next, Peony."
"I told you, it's Andréa." She grabbed his head with one hand and pushed him away from her.
"But Peony is cuter," he grinned.
"Exactly."
Kíli laughed. "You can say dwarrow but I can't call you Peony?"
She nodded and raised her brow at him pointedly. "Is that a problem?"
He grinned. "Not at all, backup wizard."
"Don't start, Fíli."
He stuck his tongue out at her, but laughed when she returned the gesture.
"Is it so difficult to call me the proper name?"
"No," he shrugged. "But Peony and Pansy, that just sounds right."
She gently kicked at his shin. "I'm not a pony."
Fíli came over from where he'd been tending to one of the other mounts. "Are you bothering our wizard again?"
"Yes, Kíli's just awful," Andréa agreed, walking over to the older brother as though for protection.
Kíli rolled his eyes. "Awful."
Fíli wrapped his arm around Andréa's shoulders and shook his head. "Why must you be like this, brother?"
Kíli put his hand to his chest dramatically. "The horror of being called the wrong name. Petunia, was it?"
Andréa raised a brow and looked up at Fíli. "Did you encourage this behaviour growing up, or-?"
Fíli played along, his voice mock-serious. "No, he's incorrigible. The best thing is to ignore him entirely. He can't stand it." He turned them around so that their backs were to Kíli. "Like a child."
"Mm, I see," she nodded along thoughtfully.
Kíli stepped forward, wrapping his arms over both their shoulders as he pressed his face between theirs. He narrowed his eyes, voice mock-threatening. "You forget that I'm bigger than both of you."
"How could I forget, my heavy prince," Andréa teased, reaching up to tickle his stubbly chin.
"Ugh," Kíli pulled away and shivered at the sensation. "Unpleasant."
Andréa covered her mouth with one hand to stifle a laugh.
Fíli let go to face Kíli once more, face growing serious. "Let's do a quick count." He turned to the girl. "Dinner must be almost done. Would you go make sure they send some our way? Sometimes we're forgotten."
She seemed genuinely concerned by the thought. "Of course."
She turned toward camp and patted Kíli on his shoulder as she passed him. "Behave for Fíli."
"Never," he grinned.
When she walked back up to camp, she saw that Bombur was still fussing over their food and nobody was eating yet. She looked around for Bilbo, and found him sitting against an outer wall of the farmhouse, beside Bofur of all people.
Bilbo was smoking a pipe while Bofur was whittling something she couldn't quite make out. She smiled to herself as she watched their quiet conversation on her way over. She hoped that Bilbo was feeling more welcome in the company.
"What's that?" She asked in greeting, pointing at Bofur's hands while she walked up to them.
Bofur looked up in mild surprise, then held up the piece of wood with a slow, warm grin. "Gandalf," he chuckled.
She sat down in front of them and carefully took the carving. Her eyes were wide with wonder as she turned it in her fingers; a miniature wooden wizard, as long as her hand. The face wasn't super detailed, but enough to recognize his nose, his long beard. The hat was spot-on, and the robe was detailed enough that the folds looked real. There was no mistaking that it was Gandalf.
"Bofur's got a real gift for carving, hm?" Bilbo smiled.
"Bah, it's hardly my best work," he said dismissively.
"It's beautiful," she said at last, looking over at Bofur more earnestly than he had expected.
The older dwarf wrapped his hands around the one that she was holding it with. "Why don't you keep it?"
She looked embarrassed by the suggestion. "Oh, no- I couldn't-"
He leaned forward, insistent. "I would have just thrown it in the fire, lass."
She pursed her lips and nodded. "Alright, then." She looked down at the little wizard again. "Thank you so much."
They sat in a comfortable silence a moment longer until Bilbo piped up, continuing the conversation she'd walked in on, about a particularly bad rivalry that had sprung up between two farmers in the shire one year. Bofur laughed softly, taking out a new piece of wood, letting his hands and blade work it into the beginnings of a new carving.
While he listened to Bilbo, Bofur glanced over periodically, noting how Andréa stared reverently at the piece she'd been handed, turning it over and over in her hands until she was satisfied.
She took off her pack and pulled out a piece of cloth, carefully wrapping the carving in it before tucking it safely away. Bofur smirked a bit to himself, finding her awe at his little doll sweet. Like a child, he thought. It did not escape him that she may not have had many toys once their house had burned down.