AN: Thursday update time! Proud to announce that the story has hit... a lot of views. Wow. You all are awesome.
Characters and worlds belong to their respective owners (Tolkien and Bethesda.) Storyline up until about chapter 25 belongs to Demon-Kagetsuki as well.
Gandalf and Elrond strode up the flight of stairs, completely unaware that their conversation had been overhead.
"With or without our help, these Dwarves will march on the mountain," Gandalf said, his tone betraying his frustration. "They are determined to reclaim their homeland. I do not believe Thorin Oakenshield feels that he's answerable to anyone," he said, and paused, looking at the Lord of Rivendell. "Nor for that matter, am I."
Elrond looked over at his friend, expression unreadable. "It is not me you must answer to."
Confused, Gandalf looked at him, before turning to where Elrond was staring. In the moonlight, Lady Galadriel stepped forward, looking at the two.
"Lady Galadriel," Gandalf whispered.
"Mithrandir," the Lady of the Wood said, "Gwenwin în únodui"
"Nae nin gwistant infanneth, mal ú-eichia i Chíril Lorien," Gandalf replied, bowing his head to the Ancient elf in respect. With a fond smile from Galadriel, Gandalf said, "I had no idea Lord Elrond had sent for you."
Gandalf froze when he heard the reply, feeling like a little child. "He didn't. I did."
The Grey Wizard turned toward the voice, and bowed his head respectfully. "Ah, Saruman."
"You've been busy of late, my friend," Saruman answered.
Dawn broke over the valley, a cool breeze sweeping through the pavilion. Gandalf had his head pressed into his hands in frustration as Saruman recounted, somewhat mockingly, what he had been told.
"Tell me, Gandalf," Saruman asked. "Did you think these plans and schemes of yours would go unnoticed?"
Defending himself, Gandalf said, "Unnoticed? No! I'm simply doing what I feel to be right."
"The dragon has long been on your mind," Galadriel said,
"This is true, my Lady," Gandalf responded. "Smaug owes allegiance to no-one. But if he should side with the enemy, a Dragon could be used to terrible effect. That is why I have brought outside help to rid us of this problem."
Saruman scoffed, saying, "What enemy? Gandalf, the enemy is defeated. Sauron is Vanquished! He can never regain his full strength."
Nodding slightly, not believing a thing Saruman said, he asked, "Does it not worry you that the last of the Dwarf-Rings should simply vanish, along with its bearer? Of the seven Dwarf-Rings, four were consumed by Dragons, two were taken by Sauron before he fell in Mordor. The fate of the last Dwarf-Ring remains unknown," he said, and silence fell. "The ring that was borne by Thrain."
Sauruman, exasperation in his voice, said, "The Ruling Ring of Power- The Seven are of no value to the Enemy. To control the other Rings, he needs the One. And that Ring was lost, long, long ago. IT was swept out to sea by the waters of the Anduin."
"Gandalf," Elrond said, pleading. "For four hundred years, we have lived in peace. A hard-won, watchful peace."
"Are we- Are we at peace? Trolls have come down from the mountains. They are raiding villages, destroying farms. Orcs have attacked us on the road," Gandalf said in irritation.
"Hardly a prelude to War," Elrond answered.
"Always you must meddle, looking for trouble where none exists," Saruman said, somewhat derisively. "For example, this… Dragonborn, that walks our lands. Any creature with power like hers- she is a dangerous ally, a deadly foe if she turns on us. How do we know you have not brought danger to our doorstep. How do we know,she will not use the power of Smaug to bring death and terror to all those who live in Middle-Earth?" Saruman asked.
"Elrond has already asked that same question, and both he and I have received an answer from Brænna herself. She has pledged her life to ridding the entire world of Dragons, in order to rid herself of a curse, one that she has not deigned to explain to us," Gandalf answered. "From what I have seen, she takes that pledge very seriously."
"The Elvish side of her may be reasonable, but what of her Draconic nature? Does it share the same goals?" Saruman pushed, finding as many faults as he could in Gandalf's argument.
"I cannot speak for that side, nor for that matter, can I speak for her. I have never seen her 'draconic side,' but the evidence of her own homeland is enough to show that she has very good control over that side of her nature.
Saruman was about to argue, when Galandriel cut him off, saying, "Let him speak."
"The point is, all these separate instances of trouble means that there is something at work beyond the Evil of Smaug. Something far more powerful," Gandalf said, frustration in his voice. "We can remain blind, but it will not be ignoring us, that I can promise you." Changing tracks, he said, "A sickness lies over the Greenwood. The woodsmen who live there now call it Mirkwood, and they say…"
Saruman quirked an eyebrow as Gandalf paused, saying, "Well, don't stop now. Tell us what the woodsmen, say," he said derisively.
"They speak of a Necromancer living in Dol Guldur, a sorcerer who can summon the dead," Gandalf finished, eyebrows knitting as Saruman scoffed.
"That's absurd. No such power exists in the world. This… necromancer, is nothing more than a mortal man. A conjurer dabbling in black magic."
"And so I thought too, but Radagast has seen-" Gandalf started, before being interrupted.
"Radagast?"Saruman said scornfully. "Do not speak to me about Radagast the Brown. He is a foolish fellow."
Gandalf was offended at Saruman's continued derision, especially of his friend, and came to his defense. "Well, he's odd, I grant you. He lives a solitary life-"
"It's not that. It's his excessive consumption of mushrooms. They've addled his brain and yellowed his teeth. I warned him it is unbefitting one of the Istari to wander in the woods…" Saruman continued, but Gandalf's attention was elsewhere.
You carry something, Galadriel mind-spoke to Gandalf. It came to you from Radagast. He found it in Dol Guldur.
With a barely perceptible nod, Gandalf answered, Yes.
Show me, she ordered.
As Gandalf continued to talk, Gandalf lifted the package from within his robes, and set it on the table with a dull thud.
"What is that?"Elrond asked, as he reached out to unwrap it.
"A relic- of Mordor" Galadriel hissed, and Elrond drew his hand back as if about to stick it in fire.
Reaching out more carefully, Elrond unwrapped the package with great care, exposing a sword that made the White Council nauseated with the evil it seemed to emanate. "A Morgul Blade," the Elven Lord said.
"Made for the Witch-King of Angmar and… buried with him," Galadriel explained, fear, shock and confusion marring her perfect features. "When Angmar fell, men of the North took his body and all that he possessed and sealed it within the High-Fells of Rhudaur. Deep within the rock, they buried him in a tomb so dark… it would never come to light."
"This is not possible. A powerful spell lies upon those tombs; they cannot be opened," Elrond said vehemently.
Saruman was a little more skeptical, falling back on his derision. "What proof do we have this weapon came from Angmar's grave?"
"I have none," Gandalf sighed.
"Because there is none!" Saruman replied, irritating both Gandalf and Galadriel. "Let us examine what we know. A single Orc pack has dared to cross the Bruinen. A dagger from a bygone age has been found, and a human sorcerer, who calls himself the 'Necromancer' has taken up residence in a ruined fortress. It's not so very much, after all. The question of this Dwarvish company and the Dragonborn, however, troubles me greatly. I'm not convinced, Gandalf; I do not feel I can condone such a quest. If they'd come to me, I might've spared them and the Warrior such a trip. I do not pretend to understand your reasons for raising their hopes…"
Overlooking the valley, Galadriel saw movement and mind-spoke to Gandalf again. They are leaving.
Yes, Gandalf said, turning to Galadriel with a twinkle in his eye.
You knew! She accused, with a friendly look in her eye.
Pretending innocent, he shrugged, just as Lindir came up to inform the council that the Company had gone missing.
Galadriel and Gandalf were the only ones remaining in the pavilion after the meeting broke up, with the other two leaving to take care of their own respective businesses.
"You will follow them?" asked the Lady.
"Yes."
"You are right to help Thorin Oakenshield, but I fear this quest has set in motion forces we do not yet understand. The riddle of the Morgul Blade must be answered. Something moves in the shadows, unseen, hidden from our sight. It will not show itself, not yet, but every day it grows in strength. You must be careful."
"Yes," Gandalf responded, turning to walk away, but was stopped by Galadriel again.
"The Dovahkiin is a strong asset, but within her lies a different darkness, one that threatens to devour the world. If she is anything like the Dragonborn warriors of whom I have been told, she is not just holding back one soul, but dozens, hundreds of them. Tread with caution- her self-control is a razor-sharp sword with no safe grip to hold."
"You do not believe this quest is a good idea?" Gandalf asked, turning toward Galadriel.
"Some might not take the risk, but I trust your judgement, Mithrandir," Galadriel answered, before pausing to ask, "I must also ask, why the Halfling?"
Looking slightly troubled, Gandalf said, "I don't know. Saruman believes it is only great power that holds evil in check. But that is not what I have found. I've found it's the small things, everyday deeds of ordinary folk, that keeps the darkness at bay. Simple acts of kindness and love. Why Bilbo Baggins? Perhaps it is because I am afraid, and he gives me courage."
Smiling softly, Galadriel took Gandalf's old, weary hands in hers as she tucked a loose strand of his hair into place. "Do not be afraid, Mithrandir. You are not alone. Ae boe i le eliathon, im tulithon."
As soon as she let go of his hands, Gandalf looked up, and she disappeared like a mirage.
Nobody in Middle Earth knew Kíli as well as Fíli, and could usually read him like an open book. It wasn't long, therefore, when he realized his brother was acting very strange. He'd first noticed it when Kíli and Brænna had made their way out of the forest during their first hunting trip together. His brother's guarded expression and stressed language worried him, and he noticed that he would often look to the sky as if searching for something, and scowl when he couldn't find it. He had made no mention of it when they returned to the camp, not wanting the others to hear what obviously was a private matter.
He did, however, ask Kíli the next morning, and was stonewalled, leaving only with assurances that Brænna could be trusted. He'd made the connection then, that his behavior had something to do with the tawny Elf maiden, who was currently chatting with Ori, both talking about something in the little book he always seemed to carry. Fíli had rather liked Brænna since they'd first met, despite her somewhat antagonistic relationship with his brother, which was another thing that confused him: His brother's sudden change of heart.
Fíli didn't believe for a second that the reason for his brother's secrecy was that he'd been embarrassed falling out of a tree. Kíli was as surefooted as a mountain goat, and had spent his entire childhood leaping from branch to branch in the mountainous trees around Ered Luin. It was also after that day that they had begun chatting more, whether on ponies or on foot. He'd ask his brother what they spoke upon, but was answered that they talked about trivial things, another thing that Fíli was sure was a lie.
Because his brother was acting so strangely, Fíli decided to be more observant, making sure to watch the Wood Elf's every move, and listen to her every word. He would get to the bottom of this, one way or another.
The days passed slowly as the Company made their way up the Misty Mountains, even though they trudged as quickly as possible to make up for time spent in Rivendell. Wilderness surrounded them, and they found themselves hiking over all kinds of terrain. Obviously, Brænna didn't mind the quick pace or the varying ground, though she did worry for Bilbo as they climbed higher up where the air was colder.
Much to the surprise of the company, they heard bits and snatches of hummed tunes from her, happy not only because of the snow that was starting to appear on the ground, but because the dragons within her had settled down to sulk.
"From what you've said, this must look a lot like home," Kíli said as she hummed a tune she'd picked up in Solitude.
"It does," she answered with a smile.
"Why don't you tell us more about there?" asked Fíli.
"You know," she deflected, "I've told you a lot about myself and my home, but I don't know much about you, or your race. Surely, you have some stories you could tell me?" she asked, shifting her bag so it was more comfortable hiking up the steeper incline.
She knew she'd crossed some kind of line when some of the more distrustful of the company side-eyed her as they made their way up the terrain.
"Well, what would you like to know?" asked Fíli cheerfully, ignoring, or having not seen the dirty looks.
"Anything you want to share, to be honest, though I do have some specific questions," she answered, and then considered. "All right, to be fair, one question each in turn," she compromised.
A bright, and unnervingly mischievous smile lightened their faces as Kíli said, "You first"
Thrown a bit, she paused before asking, "As the only woman in the company, I feel the need to ask what female Dwemer look like, as I've never seen them before this journey began," she asked, curiosity alight in her eyes.
"Well that's easy to answer!" Fíli laughed. "Our women are fewer in number, and even if you did meet one, you probably wouldn't even recognize them during your travels; they dress like men, and have beards as well, though, a little less than that of a male dwarf. In fact, there are some tales of Men that we have no women at all, and we are born from the very stone we mine. Our women are as proud, fierce, and noble as any warrior. Some of them are even blessed with such a particular beard and are considered beautiful beyond measure. I still don't know how Gloin managed to make a wife out of Balbûna!"
Calling back to the trio, Gloin hollered, "You better not be talking badly about my One, Fíli!"
"Wouldn't dream of it!" Fíli hollered back. "I can still feel where she smacked me with her spoon for those sweets!"
More at ease, the company chuckled, most of them having actually been there at the time. Brænna was intrigued by the answer and was about to ask another when Kíli said, "No, no! One question each!
"Fine," she huffed, waving her hand for them to continue.
"What are you not good at?" Kíli asked, surprising her. "Honestly, you seem to excel in almost anything you do, so I'm left wondering what you're bad at.
Brænna scoffed, before muttering something under her breath, cheeks crimson with embarrassment.
"Sorry, couldn't quite hear that," saif Fíli, with a cheeky smile on his face.
"I said I'm terrible at being domestic!" she groaned. "Cooking, cleaning, I just can't do that! I nearly drove my housecarl and my husband insane, how disorganized I was, and I don't even wanna mention what happened when I tried baking," she said in embarrassment. "It's not like I do it on purpose, I'm just… bad at it. Wasn't made to be a housewife."
"Husband?" Fíli said at the same time as Kíli tried to cover with, "But aren't you a hunter?"
She gave Kíli a soft, "what can you do?" smile, before turning back to Fíli. "Yes, I was married. What, you think an old Elf like me is a spinster? And to answer your question, Kíli, yes, I'm a hunter. I'm not good with flavor, the most I ever use is salt. Bombur's cooking is the best I've had in a long time. No more questions! My turn."
They both laughed, though Fíli was more contemplative at what she'd said. "Gloin called his wife something. Is it a nickname or…?" she trailed off, hoping to get on terms with the ginger dwarf.
"His One? No, not a nickname by any means. Like I said before, Dwarven women are rare. Marriage is uncommon, and many of us never get married, either because we never find a woman, or because we are married to our craft. However, when we do fall in love, it is because we have found our One, our soulmate."
"Sounds like you have experience," Brænna said, herself surprised at the note of… something she found in her voice.
Kíli sputtered, coughing, and was reduced to fits of laughter while Fíli glared at him. "No, I haven't found my One, yet, though I hope I find one in the future."
Seeing she'd made a mistake, she said, "Sorry for the implication, I didn't mean to be rude. How do you know when you've found your One, then?"
Fíli stammered, saying, "Well…. Well, I don't know. I guess you just… know? Maybe?" he sighed. "You'll have to ask Gloin, though you should be careful, once he starts, he tends not to stop until far after the moon has risen. Maybe longer."
She frowned at the answer. Though their love had been different, it had been a long time before she and Farkas had realized their feelings for each other in the Companions. Of course, she loved him with all her heart, and they'd been happy, of course. Otherwise, she wouldn't have been so grieved at his passing.
She shook her head of these feelings, of the painful memories, concentrating on the path ahead. Changing the subject, Kíli asked, "How about your race? What are the Wood Elves of Skyrim like?" he asked, snapping her out of her thoughts.
She hissed nervously, knowing that her race's customs might be a little… unsavory to the Company. "Anything in… particular you want to know?"
"What about where they live, battle strategies, and the sort?" Fíli joked.
She laughed, but answered, "The Bosmer make their homes in the moving trees of Valenwood. Our ancestors rejected the modernization of the world, and preferred to live a more simple and natural life. As a result, we are viewed as barbarians. We are, on average, the smallest of the Elven races, making us extremely agile and quick, but our size… well, we prefer long-ranged attacks with bows, rather than melee fighting. That is not to say we are weak in close fighting, but most of Tamriel avoids fighting the Bosmer for… different reasons."
"Such as?"
"Well, there are some… unsavory practices that most of my race… practices, I guess."
"What kind of practices?" asked Kíli.
"I really wish you hadn't asked," she sighed. "There is a saying around Tamriel: 'To eat a Bosmer's dinner is to invite Namira to your dinner table.' An ancient agreement known as the Green Pact, followed by most Bosmer religiously, says that eating plants is forbidden, and the waste of meat is…" she shivered. "Nothing goes wasted. When something with meat is brought down or killed… nothing. Not in battle. I'm very glad I wasn't raised in Valenwood."
One by one, members of the company began to understand what she'd been saying, and general outcries and heaves of disgust spread throughout the company.
"I said MOST Bosmer! You saw me eat greens in Rivendell!
After that, the Brothers Durin made sure to keep clear of any of the Wood Elves… practices. That evening, after a long day of travelling, they reached a very precarious, very thin mountain pass. To make the darkness and the stone worse, a storm had broken over the mountains.
"Hold on!" Thorin shouted over the sound of rain and thunder.
Squinting, Bilbo peered into the darkness, trying to make his way through the torrent of water and ice when the rock gave out underneath him, and he began sliding into the chasm. Shrieking, Brænna and Dwalin's arms shot out, grasping the Halfling and pulling him to safely. Dwalin gave Bilbo a warning look, and Brænna whispered for Bilbo to be more careful.
"Thorin!" she yelled over the storm. "It's pointless, going through a storm like this. We'll lose people if we don't find shelter."
"Watch out!" Dwalin bellowed, and Brænna looked up to see a massive boulder shatter against the mountainside. The whole cliff face shook and Brænna covered Bilbo and herself with her tough cloak, warding against the fallen debris.
"This is no thunder storm," she heard Balin yell over the sound of crashing rock. "This is a thunder battle!"
The Elf looked to where she could just make out Balin was pointing, and was horrified to see a colossal stone being backlit by the flickers of lightning.
"By the nine WHAT IS THAT?" she screamed in horror.
Bofur stood away from the wall, gazing up, her horror mirrored in his face. "Well bless me! The legends are true: Giants! Stone giants!"
Brænna cursed in every language she knew. These are the Giants in Middle-Earth?!
The Giant who had freed himself from the rock grabbed another massive boulder out of the mountain, and flung it with a deep, groaning yell, like stone cracking under immense pressure, and in a flash of lightning, she saw it strike the head of another stone giant.
"Take cover, you'll fall!" Thorin ordered, and two of the company dragged Bofur away from the edge. Most of them noticed that the shaking of earth was caused not by the impact of rock-on-rock, but was coming from the very mountain they were standing on.
"What's happening?" Kíli yelled in terror as the rocks began to crack.
"Kíli! Grab my hand! Kí!" Fíli yelled, his hand stretching out to his brother's.
As they got further and further apart, everyone realized they were now on the knees of a third stone giant. The fighting between the two giants was- earthshaking, in a word, and Brænna had lost sight of the other half of the company. All she could do was to make sure she kept the panicking Hobbit protected from everything. When the opposing giant struck a fatal blow, she saw the other standing on a ledge, blurred as they whooshed past. That half of the company seemed as if it were to be crushed between the mountainside and the leg of the giant.
She used what little magic she had recovered to throw up a master-level warding spell to protect the company, hoping it would be strong enough to protect all of them from being crushed.
She didn't feel the stone hit her spell, all she felt was her body ragdoll-ing onto the mountain ledge alongside the bodies of her companions. Stars danced in her vision, and her ears rang from the noise, and her sight was clouded with blood. She heard Thorin's yelling and the pounding of boots as the two groups rejoined. Her thoughts sharpened immediately when she heard Bofur cry out that Bilbo was missing.
By the time she was on her feet, Ori and Bofur were trying to pull a terrified Bilbo up. She was about to slide over the edge to help him herself, when Thorin swung himself over the edge, helping Bilbo get the boost he needed for the others to pull him to safety.
Time slowed when she saw Thorin's grip slip, and he fell back. On instinct, her hand shot out faster than the eye could see, clasping his arm. Their eyes locked, and treacherous thoughts once again hissed in her mind as she held his life in the balance.
Let him go! Let him fall to his doom. His insolence should be punished! Let his body crack and his blood smear the rock below!
She snarled at the voices, blinking them away when she realized the shocked and terrified expression on Thorin's face. Gritting her teeth and baring her fangs, she snarled once again, heaving backward, feeling Dwalin's helping the pair up onto the ledge.
"I thought we'd lost our burglar," Dwalin said as he gasped for breath.
Thorin's next words made her almost regret not listening to the voices of the Dovah within her. "He's been lost ever since he left home. He should never have come. He has no place amongst us!"
He walked into an opening in the cliff face, calling for Dwalin. As the company filed in, Thorin greeted her at the door with a steely glare, before himself striding into the cave, ordering the others to check the back of the cavern, and she heard someone say… something about caves in the mountains being unoccupied.
The voices in her head grew louder with each step toward the Dwarvish lord, each of them crying out for his blood, but were immediately silenced when she heard a sniffle. Brænna looked behind herself as she heard Bilbo shuffle in, his head bowed in shame.
"Bilbo," she whispered, reaching a hand out.
"No, no, it's quite alright. I can handle… that. Especially when it's true," he answered, cutting her off.
"It's not!" she insisted.
Giving her a sad look, Bilbo shook his head silently pleading for her to drop the subject. She hurt to see the halfling so self-doubting, and the hair on her neck rose when she heard Thorin's voice.
"Plans change," he'd said to Balin, in response of being reminded to wait for Gandalf. "Bofur, take the first watch.
She couldn't sleep at all that night. The events of the evening, and at Rivendell whirling in her mind. Despite all that, that wasn't all that was keeping her up. She'd not noticed it before, but now that the fire had died down, she smelled something foul, like a Falmer camp, and she heard something like the ticking of old Dwemer ruins in Skyrim. Every nerve was screaming for her to get up and run away from the cave, but she knew she couldn't convince the Dwarves to leave, to return to the cold and the rain.
All she could do was sit in the shadows, back to the wall and hands clenched a little tighter around her swords.
During another course of those thoughts, she noticed Bilbo flipping a coin- her coin- in the darkness. He sighed, and looked around, making sure no one was watching before gathering his things, quickly packing. She felt pain at Bilbo's leaving, but knew it was not her right to decide what he wanted, and she knew he'd be safer back in Rivendell anyways.
Not even going to say goodbye, she thought, as he crept toward the cave entrance.
"Where do you think you're going?" she heard Bofur ask.
"Back to Rivendell," Bilbo responded, face set with determination.
Shocked, Bofur said, "No, no! You can't turn back now! You're a part of the Company. You're one of us!"
Bilbo grimaced, saying, "I'm not though, am I?" he shuffled on the floor before continuing, "Thorin said I should never have come, and he was right. I'm not a Took, I'm a Baggins. I don't know what I was thinking. I should never have run out my door.
At that moment, Brænna wanted nothing more than to acquaint her fist with the face of a certain smug Dwarvish lord.
"You're homesick, I understand," Bofur said.
"No, you don't, you don't understand! None of you do- you're dwarves. You used to-to this life, to living on the road, never settling in one place, not belonging anywhere!" Bilbo half shouted, before seeing the Dwarf flinch. "I'm sorry, I didn't-"
"No, you're right. We don't belong anywhere," Bofur replied somberly before looking over the group of sleeping dwarves. With an honest, but sad smile, he told Bilbo, "I wish you all the luck in the world. I really do."
Sighing, Bilbo nodded and walked away.
"What's that?" Bofur asked, drawing Bofur and Brænna's attention to Bilbo's half-sword. Unsheathing it slightly, blue light filled the cave.
Gandalf's words echoed in her mind: The blade is of Elvish make which means it will glow blue when orcs or goblins are nearby…
The clinking of gears had grown louder in her distraction, and she saw the sand of the floor slipping in between cracks in the stone.
She heard Thorin shouting for the others to wake, but the floor was already collapsing downward. In a desperate attempt to stop her and others fall, she grabbed the closest thing to her, which turned out to be Kíli's hand. Their eyes locked, both frightened as they fell into the gaping maw of the mountain below.
I'm glad that so many of you like this story, and like always, don't forget to review, favorite, and follow if you like it, and especially, review if you don't because that's how I know what to fix!