A.N.
Kelwtim2spar Thank you! I'm very glad you liked it so far :)
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They walked as much as they could until there was no more light. He decided against a fire again, and she accepted without asking questions. The only thing she asked for was water and lots of it.
In this they had been lucky: they passed a stream that afternoon. They filled their bottles and she added something to the water to clean it. Then she said she'll need the pail and some 15 minutes to clean herself. He had forgotten all about it. He wondered how she managed until now. She did, obviously, and without complaining; she was resourceful.
And now here they were, hidden in an outcropping as far from the ground as they could. The menu consisted of cereal bars again, although that would be the last of them. They had a small sac of special flour, grains, and dried vegetables too, but that had to be cooked.
It was late and they were both tired. Yeva was trying to find the flattest spot for their bedrolls without lighting one of her lamps, but she kept looking into the distance as if searching for something.
"Thorin," she gasped, "look. Look there! A light!"
"Aye."
"Let's go."
He was not sure it was a good idea.
"You don't seem very excited."
"I am not." Because he wasn't. Who would think to make a fire and not shield it, unless they were halfwits and did not understand they could be attacked or they were too strong to fear such.
"Can they be orcs?"
He thought for a moment, but no. "I do not believe so. There would have been many more fires for a company of orcs."
"Could there be just a couple of scouts?"
"Aye, that it could, but again, I do not believe so. The night is too quiet. You will find that orcs are rather loud."
"Then I'll be excited for you too."
She insisted that they light one of her lamps, just enough to establish the direction on her compass and then they were off. The little box was much more useful than it looked.
It took them hours to reach the light. It was very slow going in the dark, tripping on roots and rocks while trying to make no sound at all. At last, they were within hearing distance. He heard Yeva gasping and covered her mouth with his hand. He let go only when he was sure she calmed herself.
The trolls were discussing the merits of roasted dwarf versus squashed dwarf, less appealing but rather quicker.
"Do you see Bilbo? Or Gandalf?"
"Nay." They were advancing only a little at the time, being careful to remain in the shadows.
"We have to do something."
"Aye." But what? He did not remember who tricked the trolls to spare his company, nor how they did it.
"Oh, for fuck's sake! Where is the east, I wonder?"
The east? He waved towards the east and took a few more careful steps. The dwarves not on the spit were kept in the full light of the fire. He could see them all now and the hobbit was not with them. He was still pondering how to free as many as he could when he saw Yeva trying to sneak off.
"What do you think you are doing?"
"Saving them, what else would I do? "
"Be quiet, and stay put."
"Let go of me, Thorin."
"You are not going anywhere."
"You. Don't. Order. Me. Around."
"For once! For once do as I say. "
"No."
"You would not be able to make your escape. Did you believe I would not see your hip and thigh? You can barely stand as it is, let alone run if need be."
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Her hip? Her thigh?! What on Mahal's name was going on? They were in a perilous situation, yet that was the most - ahem - engaging conversation Fíli and Kíli happened to overhear in many a month.
"I will be careful."
"Do not fight me on this!"
"Or what? You'll throw a fit? Let go of me, or I'll start screaming," the woman hissed, then drew a breath. "Come on, Thorin," she cajoled, "you don't have time. They don't have time! Your dwarven potes will be crisp before long."
It wasn't only the youngest dwarves who heard them now. They all looked at each other and strained to catch the rest. For the moment all they could hear was a short scuffle and then a gasp - Thorin's! followed by a string of muttered curses.
A shadowed silhouette made its way slowly around the far side of the fire, to where the trolls were still considering how best to cook them.
"I suggest you get to work," she threw over her shoulder and disappeared in the dark.
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"No good roasting 'em now, it'd take all night," said a voice.
"'tis good wi'h sage," came the reply, this time in her voice. The two brothers gasped.
For himself, Bert thought it was William who spoke. "Don't start the argument all over again. Bill," he said, "or it will take all night."
"Who's a-arguing?" said William, who thought it was Bert that had spoken.
"You are," said Bert.
"We 'ave to shave 'em first."
The argument began all over again. In the end, they decided to mince them fine and boil them. So they got a black pot, and they took out their knives.
"No good boiling 'em! We ain't got no water, and it's a long way to the well and all," said a voice. Bert and William thought it was Tom's.
"Shut up!" said they, "or we'll never have done. And yer can fetch the water yerself, if yer say any more."
"Shut up yerself!" said Tom, who thought it was William's voice. "Who's arguing but you. I'd like to know."
"Some thyme will do faw me," Fíli heard the woman again. She was trying to make her voice sound lower, but could not manage it. He did not know what game she was playing at, goading the trolls like she was.
The argument between the trolls and the woman continued and he wondered where Thorin was when he saw a pair of boots approaching his sack and the point of a knife making short work of the cloth.
"Where are your weapons?" his uncle asked before he could even breathe properly. Fíli shrugged. He did not know and could not see anything useful nearby.
"I have knives in my boots," he said and saw Thorin scoff. No matter, it was better than nothing. They both got to work trying to cut the rest of the Company free. More time passed and it seemed like the trolls had enough.
"Better sit on the last fellow first," said Bert, whose eye had been damaged.
"Don't talk to yerself!" said Tom. "But if you wants to sit on the last one, sit on him. Which is he?"
"Oh, hell, no!"
"Who's talking?"
"They 'ave lasses?"
"It was that one, with the yellow stockings" came a voice from afar.
"Nay, it was a lass!"
The trolls were starting to look around, searching to see where the voice could have come from and the few dwarves already freed could do naught but freeze in the shadows. "She'll be the death of me," Thorin muttered darkly.
It was prescient, Fíli thought, as one moment later complete mayhem broke out. Somebody was running with a pronounced limp, attempting to evade the trolls. By her shrieks, Fíli could only suppose it was the woman from before. It was confirmed when his uncle forgot about the rest of them, dashing after her with all the speed he could muster.
The chase did not take long at all. There was an awful scream and a sob. He heard his uncle calling a name and then Gandalf appeared to see the job to its end.
"I did not see Gandalf!" The woman in Thorin's arms was saying between gasps. "I thought they were going to kill somebody!"
They couldn't hear what Thorin said, he was speaking too softly, smoothing her hair back. They all shuffled around not wanting to be caught staring, but curious beyond reason of how this came to be.
"Yes, I'll listen. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. It hurts so much," she sobbed into his chest.
"Oin!"
"What do you have there, lad?"
"Indeed, who would you be, my dear?"
"See to her." Thorin put her down and everybody finally took a good look at her. Their gasps made her shrink back. Her face was a dark reddish-blue and swollen, an eye almost completely shut. She was cradling her right arm to her chest while trying to find a better position for her leg.
"What happened, lass?"
"Wa - Warg."
Oin was still digging through the pile of weapons and packs to find his supplies when she spoke again. "My shoulder - can you fix my shoulder?"
"Aye, but first let me clean you a bit."
"Please. We need to move."
"It will hurt, lass."
"I told you to stay put!" Thorin snapped, but he was still next to her, drawing circles on her back with his hand.
"Brace her, lad, keep her still," Oin instructed. Thorin appeared decidedly put out to be referred to as lad.
That's what you get for disappearing off the face of the earth and coming back with a lass, Balin thought wryly.
The rest of them were looking on with interest while pretending to tend to their weapons and whatnot. In any case, there wasn't anybody else who could or would step up to the job, not after their leader ran to save the girl and then came back with her in his arms.
There was also the fact that this was not her first beating of the day. She looked tired and frightened, and she was hurt. The sass from before was gone, to be replaced by tears. Honest tears of pain, if the way she looked was any indication.
Whatever the lass was feeling, Thorin's mood was ten times worse. He was speaking softly to her, but there was no mistaking the exasperation in his voice.
"If ever a warg is about to jump on me, I want you to run away as fast as you can." They couldn't hear what the girl mumbled in response.
"Nay! If I'm so stupid as to not hear it, you should leave me to my fate."
Ah, so she probably distracted the warg to save our uncle, thought Kíli. A very brave, very foolish thing to do.
"And if my company are so stupid as to be caught by trolls, they too deserve it."
This time they did hear a muffled "No!" from the girl, followed by a gasp, a scream, and a long string of words in a foreign tongue. Foreign it may be, but the meaning was clear. Oin was done with her shoulder.
"Do you think you can walk? You cannot? We shall manage."
Oin was trying to get a better look at some of the marks on her neck, but Thorin batted his hand away. "Later," was all the explanation he would give. "Fíli, Ori! She's in your charge. She cannot walk and soon we might have to run. The rest of you, search for the troll cave!"
The wizard was stumped. It was not a feeling he was fond of, but there it was. When they first discovered that Thorin was no more he suspected magic. There had been a whiff of magic around Hobbiton, but he paid it no mind at the time. Most beings had some ability. Most beings also had no knowledge or control of said ability. Nevertheless, magic by accident was still magic, although calling it luck was not too far off.
And now Thorin was back, taking charge as if nothing happened and bringing with him a most unusual woman. At first, he too thought she was a girl or a very young woman. She looked so very small, what else was one to think? That proved not to be the case, however. There were fine lines around her good eye and her mouth. The way she looked around too betrayed her age; she was taking the measure of the dwarves and himself too.
She had appraised him and moved on as if not worth her time. She had him at a disadvantage. Gandalf was stumped and miffed.
But who was she? He should have paid more attention to what was going on. He had known that someone else other than the trolls was speaking to confuse them. It had worked very well, but then she panicked. He saw her running away, or trying to, in plain view of the trolls. At first, he could not tell what she hoped to accomplish. The sun was almost up, he was convinced he had everything in hand. Then he understood: she was leading them towards a clearing. It was a rash decision with immediate consequences. The trolls caught up with her easily and Gandalf couldn't help the shudder that passed through him when he remembered how she was grabbed and yanked, and finally bashed against a tree.
A new string of curses - the words could not mean anything else - was heard behind him. Ah, young Fíli must have jostled her when he attempted to drape her over his shoulders.
"Mind yerslef, lad," Balin spoke quickly, seeing Thorin about to let loose at his nephew. "The lass is in a bad way."
"I'm trying, I'm trying. What do you think I'm doing?"
"She's bruised from head to toes," Oin reminded Fíli. "Do your best."
Kíli threw his brother a sympathetic look, which only served to annoy Fíli even more. He was doing his best! It had been intriguing, not to mention downright funny to overhear the conversation between the woman and Thorin. Very few people would dare say no to his uncle and even fewer would do it in a manner calculated to rile him.
Even so, he supposed he should be grateful to her if what he heard was true. She was no fighter, yet she charged a warg to save his uncle and now she offered herself to the trolls to spare their lives.
It was impossible not to speculate on what would move a female, one not of their race, to such actions that could only result in pain. Fíli was not entirely inexperienced with fights and the resulting aches. It was the way of the world, after all. What he could not understand was the complete lack of self-preservation this person seemed to have. No, that was not entirely true. He would gladly give his life for his family, as his presence in the quest attested.
So now the question was: who was she to them and more precisely to Thorin.
Once they arrived at the troll cave he put her down as gently as he could and stretched himself.
"I'm Yeva."
"Fíli, at your service." He saw her grimacing.
"Yes, about that. I'm sorry for the babysitting duty." She appeared honestly contrite, so he waved away her apology.
"You saved us, didn't you? 'tis the least I can do."
"What happened to Bilbo?"
"Bilbo?"
"Bilbo Baggins, the hobbit."
How did she know about the hobbit? How did she know his name?
"Nothing happened to the hobbit," Kíli replied before Fíli could. "When uncle didn't show up we started to search for him. We found his pony and everything he had with him, including his axe and sword. Master Baggins allowed us to stay with him for two days while we continued our search."
"Then Gandalf proposed that we head towards Rivendell, to ask the elves for help," Fíli continued.
"And you agreed?" She seemed both surprised and disturbed. Did she also have reason not to trust the elves?
"Gandalf convinced Balin," Kíli answered as if that explained everything. Ori might have been assigned to help, but Kíli was not about to leave his brother alone. Not to mention that he was curious about the new addition; very curious indeed.
Fíli instructed Ori to remain with her, then he took Kíli and together they went to see the cave. Ori did so but was at a loss as to how to behave with her. Should he make conversation? Should he introduce himself, as the younger Durins did?
The matter solved itself when he noticed that she had fallen asleep. It was both good and bad, Ori mused. He was a man of letters and vast knowledge, so it would come as no surprise that he was somewhat knowledgeable in the arts of healing.
He knew that sleep was important for the body and soul.
The swiftness of it was bothering him though. Her injuries might have been more severe than she told them. He was concerned enough that he went to fetch Oin, only to come back with both him and Thorin. Oin insisted on knowing what had happened the day before and only Thorin could tell him.
"She is probably just tired," Thorin said, although they could see how worried he was. He had reason to be, Ori thought. The woman jumped in front of a warg that would have surprised their king and was injured in the ensuing scuffle. She said she did not have broken bones and Thorin believed her because they marched for two whole days. Oin tutted and fretted, but there was no turning back time.
Then when they were about to sleep, she saw a flicker of light. They traveled almost all night to reach it, only to come upon the trolls and their catch. Her idea had been to distract the trolls until dawn broke, which she did for a while, apparently helped by Gandalf. But then she got scared thinking one of them would be crushed to death and thought to lead away the trolls offering herself as bait. It worked, but she was again injured, when the trolls caught up with her.
About an hour later Yeva was still sleeping and did not look like she would wake up any time soon. Thorin was in a bind. The pack of mounted orcs might be about to attack them because this was what he saw in the film. It was possible that nothing much would happen because that was what he read in the book. The retellings differed so much as to make them useless for all but a broad outline.
She needed sleep and so did he; so did the rest, come to think of it. Should the other wizard appear, he would know the orcs were not far behind. They would make a run for it and hopefully, all will turn out well.
He ordered everybody to see to their weapons and check their supplies and then they would rest for the day and be on their way at first light. Gandalf was none too pleased, Thorin noted, but in truth he was too tired to care. It was also possible that some of Yeva's aversion to the wizard might have rubbed on him too. He had plenty of time to think and the more he thought, the less he liked what he found.
Aye, they would speak; at his pleasure, not the wizard's. He was leading himself, his sister-sons, and his company to almost certain death and they and their concerns would always be first from now on. With that thought, he too fell asleep, not far from where she was.
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