AN: Chapter Seven, published at Five in the bloody AM for all of you that have no life.
Yeah, I'm talking to you, the reader who read the last chapter less than an hour after I published it at three AM. You're just as crazy as I am!
Again, I don't own Bethesda or the Hobbit, and read In the Shadow of Dragons which this will (hopefully) be a continuation of.
In fact, if one of you can get me in contact with Demon-Kagetsuki (somehow) so I can make this a semi-official continuation instead of a fanfic of a fanfic, that would be great.
Please don't forget to review, I always want to know if something seems too OOC or incorrect.
Brænna had been outside preparing Vokun for their quest when she heard the door to Bag End slam open and shut, followed by the heavy tread of those who don't care about the sleep of others as they approached. She gritted her teeth at the thought; though most of Hobbiton was comprised of farmers, those that were still within the town would be woken rudely by the Dwemers' passing. It was when she turned to ask Gandalf a question that she realized that, gathered in a semicircle behind her was the Dwarvish portion of the company staring distrustfully and hatefully at her.
Unnerved, but trying not to show it, Brænna asked, "And what is it that has made you all so sour on this beautiful morning? Have I done something? Did I dance with Dovah in your dreams, and now you dislike me?
"You are an elf," Thorin said bluntly.
Oh, by the Nine, it's another Ulfric, she thought, remembering the anti-Mer sentiments of the Jarl of Windhelm so long ago.
"Half-elf," she emphasized. "And you're all Dwemer. Is there a problem with my heritage?" she asked, turning back to saddling Vokun.
"Yes," he snarled. "We have cause to distrust elves, as they wronged us in our time of need. We have no need of your help now."
Stubbornness and Pride, too, she thought, though she said aloud, "I do not know what troubles you have with the elves of this land, but be assured, I have nothing to do with them," Brænna said. "Do not allow your past troubles with my race influence your judgement of my skills and loyalty. I have signed a contract, and I am bound by my word that I will help your company exterminate the Dovah that resides within the Mountain. Save your hatred for those who deserve it," she said, cinching the last strap.
"The Mer are hated enough in Skyrim," she muttered.
"Mer?" Thorin asked angrily, thinking she was insulting him again.
Brænna sighed, turning away from Vokun to explain. "In Skyrim, there is more than one race of Elf. One of my parents, was a Bosmer, a Wood-Elf from Valenwood. There are the Dunmer, the Dark Elves of Morrowind, the Altmer, the High Elves of the Summerset Isles, the Orsimer, the Green Elves of Orsinium, and… the Falmer, the Snow Elves, of which only one remains," she said, looking for any sign of recognizance of the last race. She'd left out a few of the smaller Elven races like the Maormer and the Ayleids, but they didn't matter.
"I do not care from which race of Elf you belong to. I warn you now, should I have reason to suspect treachery, I will not hesitate to take action, Thorin said coldly, stepping off to mount onto his own horse.
"You will have no troubles from me," Brænna said, practically to herself as the rest of the company began to mount up.
Nocturnal's Shadow, no wonder the Dwemer went extinct! Their arrogance and paranoia must've made them many enemies back in Skyrim, she thought, as she strode back into the Hobbit Hole one last time to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything.
A minute later, she sighed, looking at the retreating backs of the Dwemer. "This is going to be a long journey," she muttered, vaulting herself onto Vokun's back, having stuffed Bilbo's travelling coat into her saddlebag.
She rode alongside Gandalf, not wanting to be a part of the Dwemers' discussion, who were ungraciously complaining that their overnight stay in Hobbiton had been a colossal waste of time. She white-knuckled the reins when they started betting whether or not Bilbo would even show up. Much to her irritation, Gandalf even joined in, though she was happy to hear that he had faith in the Hobbit.
"And what do you think of our host?" Gandalf asked, focusing the attention of the entire company on the two of them.
Brænna sighed, saying, "While I hope Master Baggins remains at home, I bet twenty Septims against anyone here that he shows up."
Dwalin laughed at this. "I'm on the Lass's side."
"Aye, me too," said Oin.
Most of the rest of the company laughed as the thought that an Elf would owe them twenty coins each filled them with glee. Still, not thirty seconds later, their spirits were crushed as they heard a small voice from behind them shouting.
"Wait!" shouted Bilbo, contract flapping in the wind. "I signed it," he said, when he caught up, attempting to catch his breath.
Taking out a rather ingenious magnifying device, Balin examined the contract. "Everything appears to be in order. Welcome, Master Baggins, to the company of Thorin Oakenshield.
While some of the company gave a halfhearted cheer, Thorin looked on, unimpressed before ordering, "Give him a pony."
Even Brænna found Bilbo's objections amusing as Fíli and Kíli lifted him onto his new pony. She stepped Vokun back beside him to talk. "Master Baggins!" she said cheerfully. "I wasn't expecting to see you here so soon."
Giving the pony he was riding on a terrified look, he turned towards her with an uncertain smile. "You know, I wasn't actually sure myself, until I saw that contract on the table. I woke up and the house was clean, like it had all been a bad dream." He fished something out of his pocket, showing her the Septim she had given him the night before. "I used your coin trick, but like you said, I knew my course the moment it left my hand."
Returning his smile, she said, "I'm glad that my coin was able to help you decide. You should keep it; you never know when you may need to use it again."
Bilbo was about to protest when his pony tossed its head, causing the fearful Hobbit to white-knuckle the reins out of terror.
"Come on, Nori, pay up. Go on," Oin spoke up.
Nori made a small noise of frustration, much to the amusement of the company, as he tossed a sack to Oin. Soon, the air was filled with money pouches passing between the Dwemer.
Forestalling any lobbed pouches, Brænna said, "Keep your coins, I have no need of them," wanting to get on their good side, and not willing to be bombarded by gold.
Some of the dwarves gave her appreciative nods, while others snorted as if they were actually ever going to give her their coins. After the whole exchange, Bilbo said, "Now what was that about?"
Gandalf snapped out of his thinking and said, "Oh, they took wagers on whether or not you'd turn up. Most of them bet you wouldn't."
"What did you think?"
Gandalf hummed for a second before snatching a sack of money out of the air. "My dear fellow, I never doubted you for a second."
About to comment, Bilbo let out a mighty sneeze. "Ohh, all this horse hair, I'm having a reaction," he grumbled, patting his pockets. "No no, wait, wait, stop! Stop! We have to turn around!" cried the Hobbit.
Half of Brænna was relieved that the Hobbit wanted to turn back, but the other half wondered if the Dwemer would make her pay up if he did.
"My dear Bilbo, what on earth is the matter?" Gandalf asked, concerned about the Hobbit's sudden change of heart.
Brænna had to force back an irritated and exasperated growl when he simply said, "I forgot my handkerchief…"
Good naturedly, Bofur ripped a strip of cloth from his clothing, and tossed it to Bilbo. "Here! Use this," he said with a smile.
Bilbo caught the rag with a look of disgust, the Dwarves laughing at his antics.
With a frustration Brænna could sympathize with, Thorin ordered, "Move on."
After a quick chastisement of Bilbo by Gandalf, the Wizard spurred his horse to the forefront of the company. Brænna, still beside Bilbo, quietly passed him a small square of blue cloth. Giving her an appreciative smile, Bilbo said, "Thank you very much Ms…." he trailed off, before saying, "You know, I'm not quite sure I ever caught your last name.
Brænna laughed. "It's 'Stormcrown,' but please, call me Brænna. Only unsavory characters and the Dovah call me by my last name."
Recognizing her word for Dragon, Bilbo blinked at this information. "Dragons can speak?"
She laughed again, remembering Paarthurnax's love of tinvaak. "Yes, they can be quite eloquent when they choose to. Unfortunately, they're not just firestorms and thunderous attitudes. They prefer the common tongue when they speak with mortals, but they have a language of their own. In fact, it is this language that gives them power, for when they shout, that is how they use their power. There is no difference between a debate and combat to a dragon. In fact, most fights between Dovah are often arguments that got out of hand. The words themselves can be very deadly, as that is where their power stems from."
Trying to understand, Bilbo nodded. "So, if I face a dragon and it's awake, should I try to keep it from speaking?"
"Actually, quite the opposite. If it is speaking in the common tongue, it cannot attack you. It is when it starts speaking words you do not understand, and gets close to you that you should be worried. If you are in such a position, I would appeal to its ego; Dovah are very vain and proud creatures by nature. I highly doubt it'll stop an attack, but it will give you time to think of a way to escape, or for help to arrive," she explained. "On our journey, I will teach you as much as I can for if and when you face a Dovah. Still, let us hope you never have to use them."
Bilbo swallowed hard, nervous for the road ahead. Changing the subject completely, he said, "We should probably catch up. I don't think they would like it if we fell behind."
She laughed again. "If the two of us were left behind, I think Thorin would like that very much."
The day passed quickly as they rode through forest, hill and plain. Brænna thought the place was beautiful, and was reminded of the nicest parts of the Falkreath and Whiterun holds. The smell of fresh grass filled the air, and she closed her eyes, feeling the sun shining on her face.
What a beautiful day. I would've taken Frost out for a day of hunting in Whiterun. The Dovah would be too busy sunning themselves to even bother flying or attacking people, she thought, then scoffed at herself. Who am I kidding? I would've been cooped up in the tower or in the Arcanaeum reading.
The company approached what appeared to be a slow-moving river, though she knew by the way the water moved that there was a strong undercurrent. Thorin, however, had decided the area was shallow enough to ford, and pushed ahead.
Brænna was about to call out that it was a bad idea when one of the pack ponies carrying their provisions lost its footing on the river rocks and was quickly being swept away by the current. Before she had a chance to react to the panicked whinnies, both Fíli and Kíli jumped in after it, being swept away as well.
"By the Nine," she cursed, kicking her horse to chase after them along the riverbank.
Fíli and Kíli had just managed to reach the panicking pony where it thrashed in the cold water, fighting to stay afloat with the heavy provisions on its back. Giving each other a look of understanding, they took out short daggers and began to cut the ropes and straps, freeing the pony and pack. They cheered, as the pack began to float away. Fíli grabbed the reins, and both paddled for the shore. Kíli went to follow him, only to find something tugging at his ankle.
The straps of the pack had managed to get tangled around his leg, and were starting to drag him downstream. Right as he attempted to call for his brother, the pack sank as it tipped over into a deeper area, and he went under without a full breath of air. He was filled with a sense of dread as the water covered his head. Dagger in hand, he tried to cut the ropes, but the frigid mountain water had numbed his hands to the point of it being impossible to move them. His lungs burned and black spots were filling his vision.
He cursed mentally as the dagger slipped from his numb hands and sank. He couldn't hold his breath anymore and let out a scream of frustration. Clawing toward where he thought the surface was, he realized how disoriented he was. Still, the ropes dragged him ever downward, further into the water.
NO! NOT LIKE THIS! NOT EVEN A DAY HAS PASSED SINCE WE STARTED OUR JOURNEY, he mentally screamed as he felt his body give up. I can't leave Fíli behind! I can't die like this. I beg of you Mahal, please, not like this…
As the last thoughts escaped him, he finally closed his eyes as water filled his lungs and something tugged at the ropes around his ankles.
Brænna spurred her horse into a gallop, trying to catch up to the current as it swept away the brothers and the pony. The river passed from her view for a moment, arcing around a rock outcropping. She cursed in Dovahzul, as she saw Fíli pulling the pony onto the shore. Vaulting off of the horse, she yanked the golden-haired brother and pony out of the water, shouting "Where's Kíli?"
"What do you mean? He was… right behind me…" he said, turning toward the river. Quickly grasping the situation, he started toward the river, screaming, "KÍ!"
He began to run toward the river, but Brænna, who had just pulled something from her pack, threw him out of the way with surprising strength. The rest of the company had just come 'round the bend in time to see her leap into the river, clad in only her black pants, white tunic and… a strange mask.
It took a few seconds for her body to get over the shock of the cold as she went under. Quickly, she sought for signs of life, fighting the current, realizing the weight of the pack would've dragged him downward rather than along the current. She caught the glimpse of a boot kicking, then another, caught in the ropes and straps of the pack, just as a treacherous thought entered her mind: Let him drown, if you do, he'll never be able to prove your connection to Odahviing. It'll be easy… just say you couldn't find him or reach him in time…
Shaking the poisonous thought out of her head with a growl, she caught hold of the kicking foot, guiding her toward the other. She yanked her Daedric dagger out of her belt and sawed through the ropes. He was growing more and more still, until he was limp in the current just as she cut the rope. She tried to drag him toward the surface, cutting off his thick fur cloak. They breached, swimming toward the edge, her hair obscuring her vision. The moment she touched bottom, she heaved him out of the water onto her shoulder.
She laid him down, ripping off the mask of Volsung and throwing it beside him none too gently onto the riverbank before feeling for a pulse. She started chest compressions, feeling the barely-there beat of his heart, hoping that it was enough. Of course, it wasn't, so she sent a quick prayer to the Divines as she began rescue-breathing. Only seconds later, she was yanked off of him by strong hands, whirling around to meet the venomous glares of Thorin and Dwalin.
"What do you think you were doing?!" Thorin bellowed in her face, outraged that a Wood-Elf had touched lips with his nephew.
"Trying to save the thrice-damned life of one of your company," she shouted back as she whirled around and started chest compressions again.
Stendarr must've been smiling down on her because at that moment, Kíli coughed and began throwing up the water. She turned him on his side so he wouldn't choke, as the river exited his lungs onto the damp grass she'd laid him on. Rubbing his shoulder blades, and murmuring softly to him to calm him down, she waited until she was sure he would recover on his own.
She stood and pushed her way past the gathered company, shouldering past Thorin and angrily muttered, "You're welcome."
Instead of thanking her, he roughly grabbed her by the bicep, yanking her until she faced him. He pulled her close and snarled, "Don't ever do something like that again."
Grabbing his wrist and yanking his hand off of her, she snarled, "And allow one of your company to die? Then don't endanger it again by making such a stupid decision. Seriously, a novice adventurer knows never to assume that a river is as calm as it looks. Be glad that he is breathing now, as he was well on his way to whatever afterlife you believe in before I reached him."
The rest of the company wisely stepped out of her way as they gave her mixed looks of shock, relief and appreciation. As she turned the bend back around the rock outcropping, she let out a frustrated huff before grabbing a stone and blasting it into the river.
Though she severely disliked Kíli, she wouldn't allow him, nor any of the company to die. As she took off her wet clothes leaving her just in her skivvies, her mind wandered to the fact that, since Farkas had died, that she'd met another's lips.
She shook her head in disgust, muttering that the dwarf would likely be as ungrateful as Thorin for saving his life, and that she'd rather romance Azura, or even Peryite or Namira than get involved with the hard headed Dwemer. She had resuscitated him, nothing more.