She left in secret the very next morning. Quickly, she gathered supplies from the storeroom and stuffed them in her bag. She walked along the dock until she found an old shop with several small boats bobbing underneath it. The shopkeeper walked out just in time to see her severing a cord and asked, in a sarcastic voice, just what the hell she thought she was doing. She unhooked a satchel of coins - the last of her funds- from her belt and tossed it up to him. He weighed it in disbelief as she unlooped the rope from the wooden block and settled into the boat. It was a small thing that rocked dangerously with her every move but it would do. She didn't know where she was going, she only knew that she wanted to be free of Lake-Town and Fili and Kili. The forests beyond the lakes of the small town called to her. There, she knew she would find her peace.
She prodded the internal edges of the small boat until the wood splintered between her fingers. It was fine, it was bound to fall apart anyway. At least she knew where the weak spots lay and would be able to gather the water and dump it as she moved along. The other boats seemed to be in a worse position.
The shopkeeper knew all of this, of course. He pocketed the satchel of coins quickly, lest she changed her mind.
"In a hurry to leave our hospitable town," he called out to her.
"How do you figure," she settled her bags within the boat and lifted the long paddle from its hooks, testing its weight. It was a kind of boat that was rare to the Dwarves, but she had utilized a similar sort of the makeshift kind in the rivers back home. She dipped the end of the paddle in the river and pushed away. The shopkeeper followed her along the dock, intrigued by the sight of her stormy expression.
"Judging by the feel of this sack, there's more coins in here than that boat is worth. And it's not very good for a return trip, as I'm sure you can tell."
"All the better."
"It might not get you to where you need to go," he said, stooping low to pass under a hanging beam.
"Then I shall swim."
"Water's quite chilly."
Nadi snickered. She was growing quite tired of his incessant prodding. "Dwarves grow gills in frigid temperatures, didn't you know? It's one of our many secrets. Perhaps you can see them now?" She touched her neck pointedly and his eyes widened. "Agh, not quite there yet. One day, maybe, you'll see. Good day to you, sir!"
She passed out of his range of sight, moving with ease between the dilapidated rows of wooden houses. The water flushed and hissed against her creaking boat. It was a soothing sound. She kept her eyes pointed forward, away from the curious glances and children running along the boardwalk until she made a left and the water opened up behind Bard's house. She ducked lower but couldn't help glancing back at his window. Kili was standing with his hands on the sill, the collar of his cotton undershirt flapping comically in the wind as he looked in the opposite direction. Was it her imagination or was he smiling, laughing at some joke that she couldn't hear? He whistled long and low into the wind. It was a call that they had used to find each other in the forests and she wondered if he was searching for her. Then someone's hand touched his shoulder and he turned away, his hair trailing behind him, taking away the oh-so-familiar smile that she thought that she had seen. Fili and Oin were standing against the wall of the balcony, engrossed in conversation. Everything in her begged for her to call out and bid them good morning, just to see the surprise in her eyes and maybe have them try to stop her. But it was too late, she passed soundlessly out of their view and directed her boat into the expanse of water leading out of Lake-Town.
She was alone.
There was something eerie about navigating waters whose endpoints could not be seen. She ruminated upon this as she dipped the edges of the paddle in and out of the water, applying only enough pressure to move her forward so as not to tip over. One could never be sure what hid beneath the murky surface. Surely, there was enough space beneath to house terrible and monstrous things. If she were to encounter such creatures, she'd never be able to handle them on her own: a terrible thought, as the ever-expanding reach of the black water made her feel quite small. Gently, she leaned over the edge of the boat and peered down. Chunks of ice thumped against the old wood but aside from that, there was nothing, nothing that she could discern. She leaned back into the boat and pushed harder against the paddle. The sooner that she was out of the water, the better.
"Cast your line, O pretty girl
Into the lake of heaven's light
'Tis you who reels the warmth beyond
Into the black and sleepless night.
Cast your line, O sweet beloved
Into the pools of souls forgot
Reap your riches one by one
And in your trance, forget me not."
She sang softly to herself and the babe that she now knew for certain was growing beneath the tightly tucked folds of her shirt. She imagined grounding upon a sandy shore, turning around and holding her hand out to a tiny Dwarvling with black hair. He would take her hand and climb carefully from the boat, his wide eyes taking in the world around him as she shouldered her bags. He'd follow her across the sand as she pointed out the trees and drew his attention to the way that the mists curled upon the mountain in the distance. They wouldn't go there, not yet, not until all was said and done. She'd build them a shack out of sturdy wood, surround it with gardens that blocked out the rest of the world, and cook him dinner over a fire that smelled of lavender, pine, and cinnamon bark.
That's how your dad used to smell, she'd tell him and he'd drink her words in with wonder, amazed at her tales of his dashing father-
A particularly large block of ice rocked her boat and she quickly threw herself onto her hands and knees. Water was beginning to leak from the holes in the wood and she dished it out with an old pot that she had found among her baggage. When she was finished, she sat back in the boat and ran a hand over her forehead. So it's a he, she thought with a little laugh. Her intuition had been loud and clear on the matter. So what to name him?
Sili. A mix between Sadi and Kili.
The voice that responded was so clear and sharp that she wasn't sure if it was hers or Ana's. She sat up and cleared her mind of all feelings and thoughts. She wanted to try something, even though it made her feel insane and silly.
Hello, she thought to herself with deliberation. There was silence in her mind and then…
Nadi, a woman's voice answered back in a delayed echo. Hello, little thing.
My mother used to call me that.
I know. I can see your thoughts, your memories. All of them. There was laughter. Poor girl!
Who are you?
You know the woman that I used to be. But do you know who I am now? How well do you know yourself, woodland warrior?
Ana?
The voice dissipated, feminie laughter trailing in its wake. Nadi opened her eyes and shook her head. No, it had to be a mistake. Perhaps she was just thinking too much and all of her thoughts were starting to crowd together. It could be a lingering effect from Iree's curse, she figured, but then again, Iree had died only a few days earlier. That only left Ana, who had also been cursed by sacrificial magic. But was such magic strong enough for her to find her way into Nadi's head?
"No, no, no," Nadi said out loud. And yet the voice had been so clear, so unmistakable. She didn't want to think about it. She kept her eyes riveted on the misty distance, purposefully keeping her mind as blank as possible. There were still whispers there, but they were far away and coded in a foreign tongue.
The last light of Durin's day was upon her. She knew that this was supposed to be a portent: stand by the grey stone when the thrush knocks and the sun sets, and the last light of Durin's day will shine. It was the message that the Elves of Rivendell had translated on Thorin's map. The sun was setting at a rapid pace. She wondered if the rest of the Company had made it to the Lonely Mountain. But she would not go there. Her journey had come to an end, even though she was afraid to admit it. To think that she had set out only weeks earlier, full of hope and anticipation for their victory! I had all sounded so wonderful back then!
The tip of her boat finally came to rest upon a murky shore. She jumped out and dragged it through the squelching muck until she reached a group of trees. There, she covered it with broken branches and bits of leaves until it was completely hidden. She reasoned that she might need it later, but it would be better if no one were to spot it as she put her affairs in order. She turned to face the forest of her youth. The trees were the same as they'd always been: thick with dark-green foliage, their trunks smooth and black as tar. This had always been her home and yet she did not feel the rush of familiarity that she had been expecting.
"Well," she said out loud and put her hand on her stomach. "Nowhere to go but forward, I guess."
The rest of the Company had cut a path through the forests. She could see signs of them everywhere: broken tree branches hanging from above, abnormal patterns in the dirt, indentations of their bodies in the brush. She did her best to cover it up as she moved along. If Orcs or any other enemy were to come, they wouldn't be able to find their tracks. She walked backward through the bushes, waving a large, leafy branch on the ground beneath her. Every few steps she switched it out and utilized a different method of dragging in order to erase her footsteps. She was nearing the shack where she and her mother used to live, she could tell by the sparseness of the flora. But something was different. The pattern of breakage within the brush was much more extensive as were the indents of footprints, as if they had been created repeatedly over a long period of time. She noted bits and pieces of sentient presence: a strip of cloth snagged on a branch, burnt wood tossed between the trees, the smell of carnivorous scat in places where such predators were not to be expected.
She stopped and knelt in a ring of bushes a few paces away from the old shack. There was no doubt about it - someone was living there and they weren't doing very well to hide it. Her nose pricked at the smell of urine and unwashed body.
She crouched lower, her hand grazing the blade by her side. Something wasn't right. The birds weren't chirping. The forest had fallen silent, as it often did when there was something large on the move. The air was thick with tension. Her fingers curled around the blade's handle. And then-
"Well, well, well. What have we here? A little wandering Nadi-deer?"
She spun around. The bushes erupted in movement as birds rose, squawking, from their branches. Her eyes darted back and forth wildly. A shadow cut past her left and then vaulted back.
"Who are you?" She demanded. "Show yourself!"
"Little girl, you know my voice. I'm not a foe, at least. Rejoice!"
She thought long and hard, her brows creased in concentration. It was coming back to her now, slowly. There had been a Dwarve that she had known many years ago: a Dwarve with a long, blond beard and cold blue eyes. One who spoke with a voice like thunder and had a mean attitude to match.
It came to her then.
"Bahn!" She exclaimed. She threw up her hands in disgust and spit three times between her feet. "You dirty scoundrel, you ugly dog. You're a foe to everyone who is cursed enough to stand in your presence. Do not talk to me!"
Of course, she remembered him. He had been the eldest of the Bahndobin brothers: the rogue trio of Dwarves that had terrorized Iree and kidnapped Ailee many, many years ago. The indirect cause of all of her troubles. They had been cast into the deepest pit of Erebor - a sentencing worse than death - and had not been heard from since.
She walked away from the clearing, confident now that she was not in harm's way. The silhouette of him moved alongside her, his body obscured by the shadows of the shrubbery save for two glinting eyes.
"I see that you are Mountain-bound," he croaked. "Am I correct in assuming that Thorin's around?"
"Why are you rhyming? Have you lost your mind?"
He gave a short, derisive huff. "Agh, so. What's it to you? What's it matter if I do? All these years, I've lived alone with nothing to eat but meat and bone. You see, I've had a lot of time. For every word, I made a rhyme. But…" he shifted stealthily through the foliage, his unblinking eyes following her with relish. "Why have you strayed from the city with no name? Is there something you are trying to reclaim?"
Enraged by his ridiculous manner, she gave a feral roar and rushed into the bushes, slashing left and right with her blade. "Come on out and I'll give you walloping you won't soon forget! You ugly, treacherous bag of shi-"
He laughed heartily - the sound coming from the other end of the clearing this time - and she spun around. He emerged from the bushes with a withered hand on his stomach. His face was gaunt and his beard was sparse and stringy. The clothes that hung from his body seemed to belong to another, much bigger man. They were filthy and faded of all colors. She wouldn't have believed that this was the very same Bahn that had proudly stood trial years ago were it not for the confident way that he moved towards her. She leaned back as he drew near, her chin rising as she tilted her head back to look at him.
"Oh, you make me swell with pride," he hissed. "But make a move and I'll tear your hide-"
He reached out and struck her beneath the chin. She stumbled back and then fell flat on her back before him. Without hesitation, he lifted his foot and set it square on her chest. His shining eyes were set deep in his tanned face. He was enjoying this, she could tell by the way that he smiled. Several sharpened stone tools hung from his belt but he made no move to retrieve them.
"Get...off of me," she huffed as she tried to push his foot away. He ground his heel harder against her collarbone and she gasped.
"I'll tell you something strange, my love. Blackbirds c'aint make no brown leather glove."
"...what?!"
He sighed and unhooked something from his belt. She screamed as he brought it towards her face but he knelt down and pressed his hand against her mouth. When she opened her eyes again, she saw that he was holding a smoky piece of mirrored glass to her face. She looked in agony at her own expression before turning her eyes on him.
And then she looked back at her reflection again.
There was something about his cheekbones and the slanted almond shape of his eyes. His lips were full and sat plump and pink beneath his wide nose. Everything about him - from the fold in the lining of his upper ear to the shape of his chin and the way that he smiled was familiar.
Because they were all traits that she saw in her own reflection.
"...what?" she said again, weaker this time. He chuckled for a long time, easing the pressure of his heel ever so slightly.
"Can't you see the red in your hair? Take a good look. Or do you dare?"
Her eyes followed the streaks of pale auburn woven throughout his beard, the exact same color that lit upon her own hair when the sun hit it from a certain angle. Kili used to make fun of it, calling her a hot-head and telling her that the red in her hair was proof of her fiery temper. But Sadi had never found it funny, when Nadi relayed Kili's jokes to her. It had never occurred to her to wonder why both her mother and her father had pitch-black hair and she didn't.
"M-my uncle had hair the color of copper," she stuttered. She understood the implication rising to fruition before her, and she did not like it. Bahn shook his head and sucked his black teeth.
"You're not stupid, use your mind. Or are you perhaps dumb and blind? Nay, you can't be as thick as cud. After all," he leaned into her, his breath washing over her face, "you're of my blood."
The pressure in his heel lessened and she seized the opportunity. She shoved herself out from underneath him and hurriedly stood up. She began to walk away, ducking and weaving about like a drunk, but he kept a steady pace behind her.
"I was friends with your father and her," he called after her. "A horde of trouble, the three of us were! And here's a secret only I can tell: I knew Sadi and she knew me well. Then, alas, she was with child. She was over the moon, I'll admit I was mild. Long I paced Erebor's floors 'til I told your father, 'that Dwarvling is yours-'"
"Stop!" Nadi cried, throwing her hands over her ears. "Stop! Just stop it! Just leave me alone!"
"To him, there would be no substitution! He raised you whilst I raised a revolution! He loved you 'til he grew grey and old whilst I tried to pave you a world that was bold. Down with the Elves! And down with the Men! I was banished for my pleas, cast out, and then-" He put his hand out and shrugged pointedly at his surroundings.
"Polish my arse," she spat over her shoulder. And then came Ana's voice.
I quite like him. Let us hear more of what he has to say.
Nadi knocked her palm against her head and Bahn gave her a strange look.
"It seems to me you've been kicked from a quest," he said slowly, still watching her with glinting eyes. "Perhaps for the worst...or perhaps for the best? All in all, Thorin's left you alone. Tell me...has he told you of the Arkenstone?"
"The Arkenstone?" Nadi stopped. The name made her heart give a jolt. Of course, she'd heard tales of the infamous Arkenstone but she had always assumed that they were just that: tales. "What business have you with the Arkenstone?"
"Ah...none at all! 'Twas a passing thought. Though I'm sure your king has thought about it a lot. They say it reflects like a crystal pool and whoever wields it, wields the right to rule. Such a powerful thing could drive a Dwarve mad…and I'm sure Thorin's changed, if even a tad? In a river of greed, heavy hearts will sink and push our world to the very brink. Shall the stone find an unworthy hand...darkness will fall across the land."
"I-if the stone is real, then surely Thorin is worthy," she stuttered and then fell silent. Noticing the shadow of perplexity cross her face, Bahn smirked and pinched a strand of her beard between his fingers.
"You speak highly of a 'worthy king'...who cast you out, you poor little thing."
"It's not true!" She cried in indignation. Isn't it? Ana's voice hissed. I see in your mind that he turned you back at the beginning of your journey. "It was a witch - the witch's fault - it was your mother, Ana!"
"O sweet, sweet Nadi! I'm sure you know 'twas Thrain that brought ruin a long time ago. So why put trust in a tainted bloodline? Just trust yourself and all will be fine!"
"What are you saying?"
He picked up her hands and stroked them with relish. "You shouldn't have to ask what I mean. Just look at your hands. So pure...so clean."
She snatched her fingers away and held them, quivering, to her chest. An image of the Arkenstone - so precious, so beautiful - cradled in her hands possessed her mind. There was an ethereal gasp in her mind as Ana's spirit marveled at the image.
You're worthy. Can you say the same of a King who does not love you?
"He does love me," she croaked.
He loves power. He is not like you. You are worthy, Nadi.
"I can't-"
Do it for your son. Sili. Protect his world. Keep the Arkenstone away from Thorin's shadow.
Bahn's fingers traveled up the strands of hair, to her forehead. It swept across her face and then came to rest upon her shoulder like a large leathery bat. "I can see it in your eyes. You see past the ruin, you see past the lies. Let me put these words in your ear," he leaned in close, his lips right against her ear, "the Arkenstone is yours. Go forth, my dear."
Listen to him. He speaks wise words.
Nadi opened her eyes. Bahn was walking away from her, one hand shoved deep in his pocket and the other waving lazily through the air.
"But the dragon-" she said and he quickly cut her off.
"Smaug is not your enemy. After all, he set me free! Go, now, my sweet Nadi. And when you are finished...come back to me. "
He ducked beneath a low-hanging branch and disappeared into the shadows of the trees. She spun on her heel and began to run as fast as she could, tearing branches from trees and batting leaves out of her face. Still, she felt her clothes being torn and her skin being scratched as she crashed through the bushes. The trees grew sparse and then slid away completely as she ran onto the shore. Below her, the black waters lapped hungrily at the sand. And above her, in the distance, the Lonely Mountain rose majestically from the rolling fog.
Go, said the voice in her head, catch the last light of Durin's day.
She didn't hesitate. With an urgency born of sudden courage, she dragged her boat from the underbrush and set a course through the water. Straight towards the Lonely Mountain.