A/N:
Hi!
Yes, there are updates, but I just let you know, I'm simply posting the little progress I've made with this project...As I'm still very stuck with the story, can't seem to get myself out of the slump I've fallen in aside for a couple of occasional chapters of stories I have going on...But at least this is something. Hope you enjoy, and thank you to you all who have favorited and followed this story all this time! You're the best!
To someone the existing world hold little wonders left to witness, seeing the coast of Endor had not much of an impact to the seasoned traveler besides the passing sense of familiarity when the same outline of the icebound bay drew into focus through the dominant mist. As her eyes habitually traveled over the city of Forochel that laid beyond the quiescent harbor, to discover the buildings and altogether scenery still buried in thick heaps of snow to have not changed as they never had in her lifetime, the sight not welcoming her back with the same feeling of fondness as it might have eons before…If there ever had been such emotion to describe such moment of reunion with this land of her birth when she'd first returned back from one of her voyages beyond the safe and known territories that had raised her to the drifter she was now… Instead of finding herself at peace for to have finally set foot onto these shores again after decades of revisiting the places that had once driven away the with each passing day growing anxiety gnawing at her soul and turning her very essence restless, to have finally come back to the one corner of the world that could've been considered home in some brief instances of her memory brought nothing but apathy to her…And yet although she couldn't claim herself to be in fact glad to have crossed the vast waters on her journey back to Middle-Earth, despite of the momentary sense of ease the familiar sight brought to her doubting mind, there was this certain air about the place that rubbed her the wrong way. Sensation that always was out of reach in whatever destination she'd chosen to seclude herself in on her travels in intention of being rid of it, but which had always re-appeared to badger her instant she'd made the decision to return. Like many times before this shadow of a doubt, this inaccessible thought ever circling at the back of her mind emerging and causing her to wonder for the umpteenth time why was it exactly she'd come back to this place that ever since she could remember had driven her away because of that very feeling of externality…The emotional jitters she experienced only while walking under the sun of Endor now rising in a form of goose bumps that riddled her skin when she allowed herself to be lost to the recollections of her past visits there like upon every arrival of hers, defining this premonitory knot in her gut as like a dread to jump into the deep waters of an uncharted lake…For this was what her return meant for her…Yet another leap of faith into the unknown, even though by each visit to the land she'd once left to find solace from such aggravating sensations something within her rose to oppose that act more and more demandingly…And always against her better judgment and not knowing why, she did not listen to it. Something always drawing her back.
Smaller floes got detached from the shore as the ship made contact with the pier. The traveler's sharp ears picking up the sound as well as the shouts of the locals aiming to tie the vessel off as she prepared to disembark, not intending to remain in the city to seek herself a place to sleep from the few available lodgings hosted by the people of the local tribes inhabiting the area unlike the other passengers on board. Much rather gathering the little belongings she had with her and taking to the frosted streets once the ship she'd sailed aboard for the past several weeks finally docked to Ice-Bay. After jumping over the gunwale her feet carrying her along the familiar routes, past the few merchants unloading their goods onto the pier to all the way out of the city, to cross the wintry landscapes surrounding Forochel. A chance of rest not even crossing her mind but much later when the mounds of snow began to turn into a rimed tundra and she was traveling under the shadow of the scrubby patch of woods that still grew at the outskirts of long since abandoned city of Carn Dûm despite of the evil still slumbering deep in the ground even to this day. Gifted with the delicate senses of her kind the woman being able to feel the darkness that still reigned over the area regardless of the fall of the Witch King when she ventured much closer to the place than many would. These forgotten trails walked on by both the minions of the long since vanquished enemy and the descendants of those once oppressed by such evil throughout the ages taking her a few miles closer to the forbidden mountains edging the ancient kingdom of Angmar, her to have taken that same passage before with much greater ease than with many even spoke of such places, until she came as close as beholding the highly jagged slopes of black rock that towered high above her, and not even she was able endure the malice that hung in the air as a remembrance of the previous Lord who governed over these parts. As the feeling of unease inevitably grew stronger her changing her course, something not quite sitting well with the lone traveler. Something stirring within her when she gazed upon the derelict ramparts, something she couldn't specify to fluster her, to forget such notion her following her current path all the way around of the tip of the mountain range, the nature created wall of the foul kingdom, until she hastened forward. Distancing herself from the abode of evil mile by mile, realizing for the first time how much closer to that place she'd come than ever before, however not finding it too perplexing as someone who'd always been less vulnerable at the true face of evil that had plagued Endor since its inception than the rest of her kin. Even if she had dared to journey even closer to the abandoned borders of Angmar without realizing it, her to have after all come in touch with nothing but deserted ruins and uninhabited strongholds. Devoid of hardly anything but the darkness left behind by the followers of Sauron at the wake of their destruction some millennia ago…Or so she had been told about a few hundred years past, and had been able to gather by the lack of creatures of darkness guarding the borders of Angmar and killing everyone coming too near it…But as if it had been foretold, even before it happened she could sense the danger would not leave her unattended either now.
It hadn't taken long for them to track her down. The constant peeve, the thorn in her side, the abiding band of pests breathing down her neck on every step she took picking up her trail as if alerted of her presence by an inexplicable inkling the moment she'd stepped foot on land, always finding her. It to have however probably done little to support her desire to remain unnoticed when she had been forced to deal with her first run in with a similar pack of Orcs but a few days in on her journey across the plains of Arnor, this chance meeting ending but in disfavor of the creatures, and by deciding to use her blade in means of leaving behind those headless Orc bodies she'd once again earned herself a tail of ten to fifteen Warg riders. And not much later it had happened again…Her hearing the bloodcurdling howls of their mounts from the distance long before the creatures could catch a whiff of her, but knowing the better of it she'd instantly forgotten any plans of aiming for Ettenmoors within a fortnight and instead with the skill acquired during years of evading encounters with these kind of hunters she lead them to a merry chase around the surrounding wild before crossing the plains that spread at southeast. After several days of eluding capture her arriving to a smaller mountain range of North Downs, choosing that spot to lose her chasers altogether for she knew the forests that grew on the hills of those cliffs like the back of her hand, by using the self made trails ending up hiding up in the treetops as eventually the trackers had caught up with her. With little to doubt of them not knowing whom they were tracking, even the little trick of magic not completely hiding her from the sharp noses of the Wargs that for the following hour or two followed to search every nook of the nearby forest. Their riders not striking any resemblance to her, but they never did, her still knowing that despite of the fact of her never to have come face to face with these particular Orcs, them knowing exactly how important of a prey she was by the tenacity they put in capturing her each time. The band of Orcs sent after her always differing the times she had come back to Middle-Earth, never the same ones chasing after her, nevertheless relentlessly trying to capture her throughout the years she had decided to spend here at a time before leaving once again. Her stays differing greatly, and her previous visit to the outside world had lasted much longer than she'd expected…But before she had known it, years had once again turned into decades, and here she was…Back in Endor, running away from a faceless threat that had always manifested in a form of a new Orc pack who'd never stopped hunting her since the beginning of her life as a drifter, not anymore protected by the enchanted borders of a kingdom that was inaccessible to all of those malevolent...But as decades had gone by and turned into eventual millennia, she had grown tired of trying to find answers to that, despite of her tries her not even once managing to end a meeting with an Orc who would've actually known why they had been commanded to chase her…For they had never simply tried to kill her as would've come naturally to any of the servants of Sauron, but instead their objective had always been mere capture. Which was what had always puzzled her the most, for she hadn't been special enough to have been kept amongst her kin either, which left the mystery of her being in such high demand amongst the Orc Commanders who century after century sent their minions to imprison her…As she sat up in the foliage, shrouded behind the pointy springs and spied upon the handful of Orcs desperately trying to decide which direction she had disappeared to, her bow ready to blind any eye that would happen to be fortunate enough to locate her hiding form in the dark, her recalling one of the reasons why she'd preferred to stay away from here…The serenity of not being chased like a rabbit across Middle-Earth and insignificance it had brought her whenever she had considered a reason for it…But like all those years before, she was yet again left but only guessing when she sat up in that tree. Waiting for the Orcs to leave while kept her ears open for every word of Black Speech spat from their grotesque lips.
"Spread out! She is here somewhere! Search the whole forest!" the Orc Commander barked, the carefully aimed arrow moving subtly to point directly at his head for a moment until it moved on to the next speaking Orc who came by his commander's side. As curious as she was.
"Why do we need to waste time searching for some freak of nature here? I'm starving and we haven't had a decent chunk of grub for a week!"
"The orders were not to come back until we've found her and captured her! The boss wants her tracked down, so we will", the Orc commander replied angrily, causing the woman to raise her eyebrows at the made remark as she observed the Orc to grab his subordinate's armor to bring him closer to him. To make his point clear. "None of ye maggots ain't getting a piece of food 'til she's found! Now, put your dog to work or I'll have ya sniff the floozy out on yer fours!"
"Why does the boss care if she's found or not? I hear she's been sought after for years. Decades…" one of the other Orcs stated questionably, puzzled, but silenced when he earned himself a scowl from their leader who came close in siccing his Warg at the throat of the other if he wouldn't quiet down.
"Never mind that. Just find her! She's here somewhere! You'll know it is her when you see her!"
The woman let the string of her bow loosen as she brought a fleeting hand to her face, to touch the peculiar scar on her forehead. On the side of her face, just above her eyebrow, her feeling the odd symbol like blemish in curt wonder until the sudden reaction of one of the Wargs to her movement caused her to push a quick hand into her rucksack. Once she witnessed the grisly wolf like creature to sniff the air and round the trees closest to hers, her fumbling her way to a small pouch until pushed her fingers into it to bring out a pinch of the powdered substance encased in it. Sprinkling it to the air and greenery around her, silently re-arming her weapon as waited for the beast to back down, and after a few more whiffs of the surrounding area the Warg retreated from the tree trunk it had been about to clamber up. With a growl it coming around and bypassing the woman in the tree, its sense of smell briefly dulled, which drove it to continue the hunt of the moment ago so strong scent elsewhere while their riders grew more and more impatient. Scouring the terrain down to the tiniest rock until the following dawn when the Orcs had finally gotten their fill in roaming in circles. Coming up empty in what they were after and in the end their mounts sniffing out but mere tracks of wildlife, eventually dispersing to the southern parts of the mountains, heading towards Deadman's Dike…Of which direction she was to avoid, after quick meal consisting of hastily gathered roots and provisions in her person her making her own way towards Hills of Evendim. In hopes of reaching the lake of the same name to stock up her water provisions before the Wargs would double back upon not finding any tracks of her leading towards Fornost, perhaps even to hunt some game as well to conquer the worst of her amassed fatigue. But so it happened that another set of several days went by and she saw not one glimpse of her pursuers, but briefly wondering upon the abrupt break in her constant flight, as considered the Orcs to have perhaps found something else that diverted their attention…Or they'd happened upon the path of a group of Dunedaín wandering these parts...Who knew.
She had spent majority of her life moving from place to place. Constantly on the move, setting off to seek a place that would quench the always rising need to start out, to never be stuck in one place when almost never had any of them felt fitting to her, only making her feel trapped by her own agitation of remaining stationary. For she had always been the one piece of the puzzle that didn't go together with the rest, and after some centuries of trying she had eventually given up on forcing herself to do the opposite. The life she had been living to have never felt her own, and even long after abandoning all that not being able to fight against the feeling of solitude even while surrounded by friends. Unable to cut down the sense of abnormality whenever she'd made an attempt to claim herself a place that would've even resembled the norm that other people considered the very foundation of life; home. But not even searching for her own path had turned out an option for her, for she was still equally adrift in the winds of change as the world continued to exist with not any more sense to it than before. After spending thousands of years on several attempts of searching for a way not to consider herself a mere imitator of that norm, false advocate of anything normal, she'd abandoned that fight not any wiser…As nothing had seemed normal to her in most recent years. She had always felt it in her very bones when she'd tried her best to be normal, even more so after stepping foot on these shores again…But even these past decades away hadn't changed the fact that being back at Endor made her as anxious as ever…And not due to the ghosts of her past or these Orcs on her trail, but rather the ailments she could sense to be still lurking ahead.
Another two days passed in her circling amongst the hills of Evendim, to make sure the Orcs to have disappeared to further south before she braved herself to exit the hills and make her eventual way to Fornost. Finding the once great capitol of the kingdom of Arnor completely deserted as was expected, the desolate state of the ruin that was nothing but heaps of stone left to be engulfed by flora only amplified by the hollow wind that blew across the city. Her walking amongst the grass covered streets until chose herself a place to set camp, the sun eluding her and shining through grey clouds that seemed not to leave the sky but on very rare occasion. Her remembering to have seen this place bathed in sunlight but once before, as she stretched out an arm to mend the fire her eyes roaming about the forlorn scenery. To land on a white flower that she noticed to peek out of a crack in the white stone step she sat on, as her green irises examined the wall that rose above her still somewhat intact discovering it to be covered with them. As she moved her gaze from the remains of a statue holding up the foundations of the archway back to the solitary flower by her side, her getting lost into a distant memory. Recalling that the last time she'd sat on that same spot, mending the made fire very much like now, that climber had been but a frail sapling. Stubborn plant growing out of these ruins, and as she now eyed at the magnitude of flowers that covered the remains of the collapsed archway she found herself envying that little sprout of her past…Taking a moment to consider how mere plants had the ability to hope for the future by bursting through the difficulties of stone, where such purpose had been gratuitous to her long ago. Arriving to the many times visited conclusion that aimless wander did exhaust the soul…To exile such bleak thought from her mind her then shifting her eyes down to her belt and onto a holster attached to it, before she even realized it her fingers drawing out a flute and with a flicker of warmth for the first time since returning her lips quivered. Perhaps to even form a wistful smile as she brought the delicate instrument higher and started playing, the lonely notes drifting into the air and forming a familiar melody that was carried to the distance by the wind. For a moment her not caring even if the Orc pack would be nearby to hear her play…For it was moments like this that she was able to find a trace of comfort from within herself, the music she created with that flute making it seem she indeed would have a purpose to be here again…Until the song ended and she was reminded of the reason why she had left in the first place.
She pulled the flute apart from her lips in mid-verse, her eyes opening as she released a long sigh that reflected her current mood, leaning her head against the stones upon this time looking up to the sky. A frown accompanying her act of sitting up as she now watched the clouds to part just enough to allow a short streak of sunlight to shine upon Fornost that brought the place to life. As she took in the surrounding green finding solace in thought that at least she was able to rejoice for these curt moments of beauty without deeming them all as insignificant as her current presence. At the back of her mind her knowing that she only needed a reminder of the times she had been content in living here, times that some could've called happy. But so much of it had passed between those short instances that such emotion felt but needless to her until proven otherwise…Once you'd lived for thousands of years with not much other purpose than spending every passing day tracing back your steps of the past centuries, searching for such fulfillment felt more cumbersome than continuing to live as to that point. And she had maintained this way of existence enough for it to make her numb to anything else….But what choice did she have? She was destined for saturation.
She didn't have an actual destination in mind, but still her best bet of traveling was to follow the river that flew to Evendim before heading all the way to the crossing of the Great East Road and Greenway, where resided the town of Bree. A small village more like city in between the Old Forest and Crestwood, where she could purchase herself a warm meal and perhaps if she felt like it, a place to stay for the night. Although she rarely felt comfortable sleeping within four walls after getting accustomed camping outside for centuries, if possible herself feeling much more calm while freed from the confinements of a roof above her head instead of a clear starry sky she'd learned to have a great fascination for. Much rather casting her gaze up to the heavens filled with the twinkling eyes of the oldest of old guardians of whole Middle-Earth, the one thing that had not changed since her youth. Always the same constellations occupying the vast heavens, smiling down at her and offering direction, but most of all, company on the coldest, most desolate nights.
The traveler could feel the muck cake to her boots and trousers as she walked along the road, her heavy cloak made for freezing temperatures although unfit for this weather sheltering her well from the downpour of rain that hammered against her shoulders. The abrupt cloudburst to have followed after her, it currently moving to the direction of east, but not before stopping to cast heavy waters upon the town of Bree. The constant shower turning the ground muddy and hard to walk on, but she strode forth with sure steps, only glad to get out of this rain. Her raising an arm to block the spray of dirt that flung from the wheels of a passing wagon before shoved the cloak out of the way, to raise her hood to reveal more of her face as she made the turn onto the final trail that led to the gates of the town and strode over to the doorway. Knocking, Instead of that old, wrinkled man she remembered her watching as through the small hatch that opened peered through a boy of barely fifteen years of age. Greasy light of the oil lamp he was holding lighting his adolescent features as she raised her chin, to reveal herself to the boy whose eyes made a quick examination over her own foreign features, until after a curt surprise he inquired her purpose of being there. Upon earning his response the lad unlocking the gate for her, letting her in, due to the late hour of the evening however that usual bustle of a vivacious town constantly frequented by merchants and other travelers like her absent as besides a few people braving the weather and ambling the streets in search for an early night pint the majority of the residents had confined themselves to their houses. The drifter crossing the town in search of the one inn she knew to accept several means of payment instead of only using the local currency unlike the few other establishments of this place, taken that she was somewhat out of funds due to her long absence, more foreign coins in her pocket but gold all the same. Even if she didn't know her way there blindfolded, having not to fear of getting lost since the East Road ran through the town from northern to the southern gate. Making Bree an easy and profitable turnout for anyone in need of anything…Not to mention being one of the few places in Middle-Earth that didn't suffer for antipathy towards different races, hence its population consisting of both men and the other very curious race common to these parts; Hobbits.
The woman knew that the Halflings, as they were referred to by some, living in this town were but a minority compared to the majority of their kin that had much rather settled themselves west of here to a region they called the Shire. Her to have seen it some time in her younger years, her however not recalling when, and to have visited that place but once since this little folk hold little interest to her when she'd plenty of times seen their relatives frolick about the town of Bree without them much fazing her anymore with their peculiarities and gluttonous habits. In addition to the fact that according to that little knowledge the rest of the inhabitants of Middle-Earth had of them, amongst those who in fact knew about the existence of Hobbits, which wasn't quite a lot due to their tendency to mind their own business without getting involved into the matters of the outside world, said that they suffered not intruders much and more preferably wished to be left alone. For their fortune their home being located to the less visited part of Endor where not many without a reason ventured to come upon their lands…Which perhaps could've been an interesting occurrence, but for now, she found it redundant. She hadn't returned to educate herself more about the Hobbit culture.
Unsurprisingly upon arriving she saw the usual mix of Hobbits, men and a few dwarves lounging by their respective tables. Some a traveling company of several people, and some mere loners who sat in their corners enjoying their meals and drinks in silence, after a quick look over the other patrons the woman choosing herself a seat from an unoccupied table right in the middle of the room. After disposing of her rucksack onto the bench and detaching her weapon to place it onto the table, thinking the better of it as soon her attention was swiftly drawn to the few individuals skulking about the room. Not particularly eye-catching by doing anything more noticeable than eating, but their rugged bearing and selection of blades revealed enough to encourage her to keep her own within reach. The clear presence of more than a couple of bounty hunters making her change her mind about removing her hood as well, since she wished but a quiet meal for herself. Not taking the risk of those men taking too much interest in her in their relentless search for some easy money, even if she'd never had to deal with people like them coming for her hide to sell it. Hence her allowing the water to puddle onto the floor, the drenched fur rim hanging above her eyes as soon one of the barmaids approached her for an order. Her simply asking for something that was hot, the Hobbit woman not needing to be told to bring something to wash it down with as shortly after she returned with a mug of ale, the drink humans had loved since the early years of First Age, but to which the traveler hadn't quite developed a taste for, and a simple plate of potatoes, meat and some greens. Her thanking the waitress with a bend of her head as slid a couple of coins over the table to her direction, watching from the corner of her eye as the woman blinked at the coins in her hand before inclined her own head, jingling them.
"With this much you've earned yourself another pint, love."
"Never mind. Just bring me some bread and a piece of cheese if you have some to spare."
With a nod she took off. To the direction of the counter to go fetch the drinks and other plates that had already been lined up there for her to bring to the awaiting customers, the rest of the traveler's meal passing uneventfully. Peace and quiet being too much to ask as she was in a room filled with clamorous patrons talking all in the same time, raising their voices needlessly whenever amusing enough jest was shared amongst comrades that brought out a boisterous laugh. But she'd always had the skill to detach herself from her surroundings, if she wished so not hearing or seeing anything that didn't concern her, but this time around she was slightly enticed to have a look of her surroundings. To examine the people she was surrounded with, no notice had they made any kind of a change during the time she'd been away, but not with either disappointment or wonder she figured everything was the same. But the patrons of old to have been replaced with the following generation, except for some of the Hobbits whom she couldn't exactly say to remember, but figured to have seen here before. Just as much older than back then. But of course, she was able to make these subtle notions about the aged Prancing Pony and its clientele without a fear of anyone inside actually recognizing her. As those she'd once known were either dead, or…not around to remember her. And meeting any of them would be a great coincidence indeed, and she had come to expect little of such fortunate occurrences to come her way in most recent years.
She caught herself staring too long into the flame of the sole candle that was close to burning out, her next shifting her eyes back to her flute. Turning it in her hands, measuring it, feeling the perfection that was its form and admiring the shine of the silver that hadn't gained even a slight darker tint despite of its age…Realizing it to be the only thing without a fault she knew, and upon being reminded of it she closed her eyes as put the instrument away. Not wanting to think further into its history that was inadvertedly so tangled with hers, instead busying herself with finishing the last of the bread and cheese on her plate, until her gaze was drawn towards the fireplace that was the centerpiece of the room. Or to the table in front of it in fact, as she raised her head just enough to follow how the most recently arrived patron walked over to the warmth of the fire to dry off. Short one at that, and as she watched him do as any customer would do, abandon his effects onto the bench, she soon raised knowing eyebrows when she caught the sight of his sword that he placed by the table which was plain Dwarfish to her eye. The man confirming himself as a dwarf when he next removed his hood upon seating, revealing a man with a rather hefty bearing, squared shoulders and quite stern countenance shrouded under a much more discreet facial hair than normally, the look on his mien however probably being caused by his mood, as anyone who'd just spent perhaps hours in trudging in cold rain would've looked so grim. But even for a dwarf, he looked young to her. But she couldn't go telling from which tribe he hailed from, not his attire or features giving much away about him. Not even his sword looking familiar enough for her to determine was he from the Iron, -Blue, or Grey Mountains, as he looked like common fellow vagabond to her…His hair in much graver tangles than was usual to his kind and altogether appearance ungroomed, the once condition of his clothes and the craftsmanship of his weapons however hinting him not to be an average dwarf while for example compared to the rest of his kind still currently at the inn…Even his very way of conducting himself while sitting there comparable to someone who knew their worth…Being that as it may, this dwarf's arrival having little to do with her affairs, so after a swift examination and brief exchange of looks later, unbeknownst to him since instead of her face he mostly saw shadows, just feeling her stare, she ignored him. However others finding the arrived dwarf much more interesting.
From the moment this dwarf had stepped inside the establishment, two of the remaining bounty hunters had taken a liking to steal glances at him from time to time. As time passed and their occasional looks turned into persistent staring by the time this stranger had acquired himself a plateful of food to recover from the strain of his long journey, them watching his every move from simple act of lighting his pipe and taking a swig of his given drink, eventually the target of such strict fascination also coming to notice something was awry. It not taking long when the woman observed him to have a look at the surrounding patrons as well when the food arrived and he put away his pipe and pint, a few mouthfuls and glances later pinpointing the stares that had alerted his senses and disturbed him throughout the duration of his wait. Him to have previously bypassed the feeling of being watched as his imagination, reckoning the hooded figure who sat by the table across from him to remain still overly curious of him, but upon taking a second look at them realized to be wrong. Thorin Oakenshield's observant eyes rounding the faces of the crowd, taking in the Hobbits, humans and Dwarves alike within the room until his gaze finally fixated onto a pair of men on his right and left. Both of them sitting alone, strictly watching him and him only, the looks on their somber faces signaling them to be more than just a bit too curious strangers. Him naturally not knowing these men, but he knew their profession…That much was obvious to anyone who had traveled around Middle-Earth long enough to recognize a bounty hunter when they saw one, but when it came to the possible reason why these two men would've been interested about him…He knew not. And more preferably would've wished to finish his meal and carry on without finding out, but the minute these men saw him looking their way, catching them, they straightened their postures. As if preparing to jump to their feet the minute Thorin would make a false move of perhaps reach for his weapon, heading for the door…Such options indeed crossing the dwarf prince's mind as for a moment he sat there, observing these men keeping a careful eye on him, until made his move after remaining poised long enough to determine the intentions of these men, them looking more like robbers than decent citizens. Or was about to once he soon watched the men to rise, to start to approach his table in clear intent of making their own before him, but just as he inched his hand towards the handle of his sword, to raise it, the whole situation was turned upside down by the arrival of an another man. Old man, with long, grey beard and hair, and his altogether attire consisted of worn, same colored pieces of clothing, who dropped into a seat opposite of him. Causing the two bounty hunters to halt as the woman raised her eyebrows, wondering why would such a man seek the company of this particular dwarf as she spied Thorin to cast a surprised look at the old man. It taking a moment for him to recognize him as he next raised an arm to attract the attention of the passing by waitress, smiling at Thorin, ordering whatever had been on his plate.
"Mind if I join you?"
The traveler followed as the bounty hunters retreated back to their corners, despite of the unforeseen arrival of the man them continuing to keep watch as the dwarf's gaze fell in relief. Him however then looking back up to the old man as he addressed him again, his tone a tad apologetic, perhaps to mend his previous rudeness of simply sitting down to his table without permission.
"I should introduce myself, my name is Gandalf. Gandalf the Grey."
"I know who you are", the dwarf replied, indeed knowing him, and so did the woman. Her eyeing at the elderly man from behind carefully while again wondering why would a wizard seek the company of this particular dwarf, as it was clear this meeting was not quite as coincidental as the wizard next let on.
"Well now…This is a fine chance!...What brings Thorin Oakenshield to Bree?"
The woman's eyes flashed back up, to take in the dwarf who was returning the wizard's stare, before gazing down again. Sighing, from whatever the time he knew Gandalf deciding to trust him with the truth.
"I received word that my father had been seen wandering the Wilds near Dunland. I went looking…and found no sign of him."
Disappointment reflected from the Dwarf prince's face as he then went silent, looking away, undoubtedly busying his mind with the images of his apparently lost father and thoughts what could've happened if he had been successful in finding him. The wizard releasing a compassionate sigh as nodded, leveling a solemn look down at Thorin.
"Ah, Thrain…"
"You're like the others. You think he's dead."
"I was not at the battle of Moria."
"No. But I was. My grandfather Thror was slain. My father led a charge towards the Dimrall gate. He never returned", Thorin said, momentarily lost in thought, undoubtedly thinking back to the times of battle he spoke of as the woman reckoned upon seeing him space out like that. Agreeing that if there was any obscurity about the location of the descendant of Thror, he was dead, no doubt about it. Since what she knew about the battle of Azanulbizar, not but a handful of dwarves had survived the bloodbath what the liberation attempt of Moria had called for, and not among them had been reported of being any living member of the royal bloodline…Or so it had seemed, but she had been proven wrong as she now watched the wizard together with the Dwarf. Apparent prince of Moria, with a hint of more interest her listening in to Thorin's following words, his voice adamant. "Thrain is gone, they told me. He is one of the fallen. But at the end of that battle I searched amongst the slain, to the last body. My father was not among the dead."
"Thorin, it's been a long time since anything but rumor was heard of Thrain", Gandalf reminded him, as willing to believe his old friend to be alive as his son, but couldn't because of the very fact of him to have vanished without a trace after the battle. Thorin however not even considering his search of his father to have been in vain.
"He still lives, I'm sure of it", he argued, certain. The two men then staring at one another in silence, Gandalf with a look of wonder on his face that bordered disbelief, where Thorin's features were but set and unyielding. The woman spending a few more seconds in watching the pair until sighed, straightening, taking hold of her tankard to finish the leftover content.
"The ring your grandfather wore…One of the seven given to the dwarf Lords many years ago…What became of it?"
The wizard's question surprised even the traveler and she put the pint down, as eagerly waiting to get a response from the briefly confused Dwarf prince, until Thorin simply shook his head. This time unsure of what left his lips.
"He gave it to my father before they went into the battle", he told the wizard, visibly not quenching his curiosity.
"So Thrain was wearing it when he…when he went missing?" he asked, earning a serious look back from Thorin, that indeed more unsettled Gandalf than alleviated him.
"That's that then."
Nothing became of that start of a conversation after all. The wizard receiving his own food just then, ending their exchange for a bit, the old man moving the plate in front of him as Thorin leant forward. In turn appearing anxious for answers, even more so than the wizard just a moment ago. Suspecting that he hadn't appeared to the Pranching Pony to talk about his father without a purpose of his own, sensing it…Wizards after all knew how to be crafty when they had a desire for it rather than need…
"I know my father came to see you before the battle of Moria. What did you say to him?"
"I urged him to march upon Erebor. To rally the seven armies of dwarves, to destroy the dragon and take back the Lonely Mountain…" Gandalf replied, his previous hint of smile disappearing from the way of earnest expression as he locked gazes with Thorin. The woman looking down before her eyes flickered to the direction of her weapon. Yes, Smaug. The only living dragon known to still spread fear in Middle-Earth…She supposed not even the past decades had made it run out of convenient travelers to wolf down to...And she knew not much about the tragedy that had led to the destruction of Dale and the dragon taking upon residence in the mountain, just what everyone still able to remember knew…And now that she thought of it, this dwarf indeed made sense to be one of Durin's folk. Why else would a dwarf prince journey across Middle-Earth as a drifter like her if he had a home to go back to? Upon thinking this her after all simply dismissing such ponders, with one final glance cast down to her empty plate deciding it to be her time to leave as the wizard continued, now finally giving a glimpse of his true intentions as wizards did…Shedding a light on the truth bit by bit without often others even noticing it. "And I would say the same to you. Take back your homeland."
"This is not a chance meeting, is it, Gandalf?" Thorin questioned, however not anymore surprised, as he'd seen this outcome coming from a few exchanges ago. Taking a sip of his drink, getting a confirmation from the wizard's corroborative mien.
"No. It is not. The Lonely Mountain troubles me Thorin. That dragon has sat there long enough. Sooner or later, darker minds will turn towards Erebor."
The traveler cast a fleeting look to the wizard's way. Was that a threat? A remark to be taken not so lightly? She had felt somewhat more unrattled upon returning, but she doubted the wizard's words to mean anything to be truly concerned over. That dragon and the gold it guarded day and night to have remained within that mountain untouched for two hundred years without anyone making an attempt for it, and there it would remain. Not any greater threats anymore left in Middle-Earth either to have a mind of trying to steal it away from a dragon that would guard every single coin with lethal, fiery determination. But unimpressed by such fancy her taking hold of the flute to tie it back to its place, however upon taking hold of her rucksack to throw it on her back something else the wizard then said waking her attention.
"I ran into some unsavory characters while I was traveling along the Greenway. They mistook me for a vagabond."
"I imagined they regretted that", Thorin mused, the corner of his lips rising for a start of a smile as could easily assume of which kind of band of curs he was referring to, but his focus was now drawn to a piece of battered leather that Gandalf had just revealed from his effects. Showing it to him, sliding it across the table to his direction after rolling it open for him to see.
"One of them was carrying a message. It is Black Speech…A promise of payment…"
"For what?" asked Thorin, at this instant not really interested to know. Gandalf's much more grim voice however changing that as it lowered an octave, for only him to hear. Or so he thought.
"Your head."
The woman paused, casting a look towards the pair sitting not all that far from her in curt bafflement as then peered down at the message written with the crude language of the Orcs. Being able to read it even upside down and realizing the wizard to be telling the truth, her not even noticing herself to be frowning as she mulled upon this piece of downright surprising information as did the dwarf prince. Her mind automatically probing for a connection between the sudden disappearance of the Orcs hunting her and that bounty, Thorin's eyes simply moving from the piece of leather to the elderly man in front of him and back. Equally confused as she was but for whole different reasons, whereas Gandalf didn't seem all that taken aback by this...Ad some would've argued it to take a lot to surprise a wizard.
"Someone wants you dead, Thorin. You can wait no longer, you are the heir to the throne of Durin. Unite the armies of the dwarves. Together you have the might and power to retake Erebor. Summon a meeting with the seven dwarf families…Demand they stand by their oath ", Gandalf urged then, this idea however not quite agreeing with Thorin, where the traveler had stopped paying close attention to them at this point as she reclaimed her rucksack. Turning, about to leave, but the last words of the dwarf prince still reached her sensitive ears even to the opposite side of the room. It being however then when the pair of bounty hunters came to have the same mind of exiting the establishment, leering at Thorin while heading for the exit. Not fooling her, even both the wizard and the dwarf were at the present too busy conversing to notice.
"The seven armies swore that oath to the one who wields the King's Jewel. The Arkenstone. It is the only thing that will unite them, and in case you have forgotten that jewel was stolen by Smaug!"
The woman stepped out of the way as the pair of men exchanged a few words with one another, directing one more look back at Thorin and Gandalf before walking past her, not casting a single glance to her way, where her gaze followed them all the way to the door as did Thorin's and Gandalf's this time around. The traveler shaking her head, made too aware by the years not to already know what was coming, but in the end simply sighing dismissively she walked over to the counter. Waving to catch the host's attention as her musings reeled back to what she'd learned from the wizard, his slightly more jovial voice emanating through the racket just as the runner of the inn arrived, drowning the continuation of the conversation under his inquiries of how being of service.
"What if I were to help you to reclaim it?"
The traveler asked about the free rooms. Whether or not there would be one human sized for her use, as the host was checking his books for anything suitable her not being able to stop herself from once more lending an ear to the ongoing exchange. Hearing utmost doubt to lace the dwarf's voice as he offered his own view about the wizard's made proposal, making an excellent and impassable point.
"How? The Arkenstone lies half a world away, buried beneath the feet of a fire-breathing dragon."
"Yes, it does. That is why we are going to need a burglar."
The traveler blinked. Once again not following the musings of wizards, it remaining as great of a mystery to her as to Thorin how this "burglar" character would make any difference in bypassing the pressing matter that was Smaug, yet alone to help ward off such an obvious danger if it truly was the wizard's intention to send out an army of dwarves to fight him. It nevertheless not quite becoming clear to her as it was then when the keeper of the establishment announced the last human sized room to have been reserved earlier that evening. Leaving her with no other choice but to take herself to make some more inquiries from the other inns, her thanking the man before cast one final glance towards Gandalf the Grey and Thorin Oakenshield on her way to the door, the latter once more mirroring her sentiments with his questionable expression.
"A burglar, you say?"
"Yes. And I just happen to know someone well fit to the task."
Nothing available. That was the response she got from all of the inns she'd so far walked into, it to have perhaps been normal that the rooms were this wanted amongst the patrons, but she didn't recall the establishments to have ever been this full. After her fourth attempt her stopping in middle of the street, not caring for the rain this time around, as now well fed and warmed up she was more annoyed by the apparent fact of her to be forced to spend the following night outside in this weather. The traveler considering her options, and soon came to the conclusion there to be little suitable places for her to camp out, so she could've as well walked all the way to one of the abandoned fortresses of men that was nearby. One day's travel away, but she could make it in much less than that if she made haste and used her own paths instead of the common roads. Upon deciding this, her casting a quick look to the sky, to notice the rain wouldn't relent any time soon, there being nothing to do about it, so she headed for the gates. The southern ones, however not many minutes later her coming upon familiar faces. Although they were attempting to move in the shadows unseen, her eyes however easily finding the figures of the two bounty hunters as they crept forward. Soon splitting up, weapons in hand, the other beckoning his comrade some commands before both of them chose themselves a place to hide. The woman letting out a sigh as she immediately knew what they were up to, and indeed it wasn't a matter of guessing their objective when she then saw the wizard and the outlawed dwarf to approach her. Her as well as the awaiting men in hunt for the bounty money, the pair just to have exited the Pranching Pony after talking some more about the quest Gandalf had suggested to Thorin…Without yet reaching a complete understanding however the wizard continuing to coax the proud dwarf prince to act on his appeals as he strode along the street, in clear mind of turning a deaf ear to his suggestions that seemed but senseless ramblings of an old conjurer. Something only a wizard would say, and he made clear such unwanted pointers to be of no use to him.
"I'm not taking advice from wizards."
"Thorin!"
"Let it be, Gandalf. What you're asking of me is pure madness."
"Just as great as allow that dragon continue to reign over Erebor in the absence of a true king? You are the rightful heir to the throne, king under the mountain, not Smaug. So it is your obligation to claim your kingdom back from him! Time is of the essence and you must act."
"Obligation!" Thorin breathed, only annoyed this time around, turning to face the wizard tailing after him. Still with no intention of doing as he persistently asked of him. "You know nothing of my obligations! I have better things to concern myself over than to waste my time in accommodating the whims of a wizard who is too important to take care of the problem himself!"
"What I do know, is that finding your father isn't one of them", Gandalf pointed out, silencing Thorin for a moment as was the intention, long enough for him to try to change his mind again. "Saving Erebor concerns me much less than you, Thorin. You and your kin. You would much rather continue to leave your home unattended and turn a blind eye when the dragon continues to consider himself the only and rightful ruler of Erebor. Smaug might've been left out of people's minds for two hundreds of years and passed into mere legend, but not to me, and cannot be overlooked, not anymore. And the first step is for you to acquire the support of your kin in an attempt of driving the dragon out of the mountain, once and for all!"
"And how do you suppose we do that? With the help of that burglar of yours?" Thorin remarked, even more doubtful. "Smaug wiped out my whole clan with a single breath and claimed ownership over our riches despite of a whole army of us greeting him at the gates. It is a mere suicide mission. One I will not let any more of my people to fall victim of."
"Dragons have been conquered before, and shall be again. Some of your strongest warriors survived the calamity and still live, not alone you. Which is an advantage. Smaug probably believes the whole line of Durin to have perished, leaving him and his self appointed rule unchallenged."
"What a few drifters can do against a fire-breathing drake of the North?"
"Fight. Most important right now is to gather together a group of loyal dwarves, brave enough and who are prepared to face Smaug to take back what's theirs. Rightfully, not through bereaving and mayhem."
"Well, when you find me such dwarves, let me know. Because the clans will never unite to support such a quest, not without the Arkenstone for me to present them. They will not listen to me, yet alone when I tell them it was you who suggested such folly."
"Then you make them listen!" Gandalf said, rather snappishly now and he shook his head at Thorin, who only looked back at him silently, deadpan. His long lasting patience briefly unbalanced. "Save me from the stubbornness of dwarves!"
"You do not hear me, wizard", Thorin countered, in turn angering Gandalf.
"And you're not listening to the voice of reason! This cannot wait, Erebor, cannot wait, Thorin. Smaug has dwelled there long enough. It is time, Thorin. This is what your father would've wished. As well as your grandfather and the rest of your family…To see their home thriving once again, free of the dragon's tyranny."
This time Thorin simply turned his back to Gandalf, without a word, done talking despite of his set features softening for a moment at the mention of his late grandfather and inevitable reminder of his late sister. With a sigh of resingment Gandalf letting him leave, but mere a few steps later called after him, despite of pretending otherwise knowing Thorin to be contemplating about the possible return home and to have done so on several occasion along the years…A try to drive out Smaug and retake the throne by returning the dominance of the Lonely Mountain back to the dwarves, and therefore was certain him to pay heed to what he next said…Perhaps even complying with it.
"Of course do as you see fit…But if you choose to follow my advice, do as I prompted. Summon the dwarf families together and speak to them. Try to convince them of the importance of this quest, as well as yourself, and even if you are unsuccessful in either…amongst them choose twelve dwarfs you trust and would gladly see accompanying you to the mountain, and come to the address I shall provide you with precisely in three month's time. I will contact you later on about the details. Leave the rest to me. All I ask is a little indication of faith."
The traveler dropped her rucksack to the ground as she followed the bounty hunters to ready their weapons once the dwarf prince drew closer, currently standing but a few paces away from their hiding, as Thorin came to a brief halt upon hearing Gandalf's previous words that hinted of plead. The woman threading her quiver and bow onto her back before jumped upward. Yanking herself onto the ridge of the roof of the proximate building, timing it with the moment the bounty hunters stepped out onto the street to block Thorin's path before he could respond to the wizard and started talking, to hide the sound of her hauling herself onto the roof. Both him and Gandalf giving the men quizzical gazes until recognized them, the bald man with one blind eye smirking at the two of them as raised his axe. Twirling it in his hand, offering a mocking bow to Thorin.
"Not so fast your highness."
Thorin came close to rolling his eyes as he saw the pair of men to appear out of the darkness. Knowing why they'd been lurking in the shadows for after the fleeting sense of bafflement, but now that he was aware of the price on his head their earlier stares back in the tavern didn't anymore feel all that peculiar to him. Thorin drawing his own sword as the bounty hunters came closer, looking too smug for their own good, and he was sure to wipe those self-assured grins from their faces.
"It seems there's a price to be earned from your head. Detached one, I'm afraid to say…But you are sure not to feel a thing", the other man remarked, smoothing the blunt side of his sword until directed it at Thorin. However his eyes darting to Gandalf, his comrade approaching and forcing Thorin to give room to the second bounty hunter who went on to challenge the wizard. Gandalf simply returning his stare while leant onto his staff in a rather relaxed manner, not bothering to reveal his own weapon as Thorin replied to the bounty hunters. The least worried as leveled his sword towards his opponent.
"Whoever put out that bounty…I'll be sure to send them your heads instead."
The fight begun. The traveler walking along the ridge of the roof as took out her bow with slow movement, wondering that perhaps her interruption was most unneeded when she watched as Thorin hold out well against the human man, even with his much heavier, clumsier weapon and disadvantage in height. The wizard naturally not getting much opposition from the other man, and for a few minutes the exchange of blows continued intensely, Gandalf resulting into a small blast of magic with his staff to get rid of his adversary, until Thorin was distracted by a group of men suddenly passing them by. His own opponent momentarily beaten and laying in the mud, but as the dwarf's gaze was briefly fixated onto the rowdy group of men the one Gandalf had also thrown onto the ground rose. Upon standing snatching his fallen sword from the ground and charged at Thorin, directing the blade to his neck, Gandalf's warning coming too late to alert the dwarf of the danger. Sudden arrow however piercing the air and Thorin was surprised by the cry of pain as it sank into the wrist of the bounty hunter, impaling it. As Thorin twirled around and Gandalf raised his gaze to see the cloaked, tall figure standing on top of a nearby rooftop, the traveler releasing a second arrow from her bow and it hit to the blade of the bounty hunter's sword, dropping it from his already weakened grasp. The other bounty hunter getting proven wrong about his chances of attacking Thorin during the distraction the arrows had created, as a third one instantly flew across the air. Accurately latching into the wall of the building behind the man right by his own neck, just below his earlobe, all eyes now rising up to stare at the woman, who however made not her identity known. Rather staring back at the pair of crooks momentarily rendered immobile due to surprise, after a moment of searching the source of the arrows also Thorin locating her. Even in the dark, most likely also recognizing her as the same person from the inn, after a short moment him seeing the cloaked bowman to tilt their head while it moved just enough to indicate them to have cast looks at the bounty hunters. As a half inquiry half urge for them to leave, the one currently behind Thorin however next releasing a growl of anger as rose to his feet, his axe in his hand again.
"Bugger off! This business is not yours to…"
Another holler of pain drove Thorin to look behind him, or rather his eyes had been led there by the fourth arrow that had flown directly by his cheek in middle of the man's speech. Ending in him earning himself an arrow through his ear, in shock the bounty hunter dropping his weapon as his hand shot to cover the bleeding ulcer. Thorin blinking at the sight in curt admiration and wonder as the traveler armed her bow again, this time pointing it back to the firstly injured bounty hunter who gasped. Both him and his comrade assessing the situation for a moment, grunts of pain slipping from their lips as they glanced at each other, Thorin and the armed mystery man on the roof while trying to figure out their chances of getting their bounty without dying. Finding them close to naught, and Gandalf's voice now rose above the silence to clarify that.
"I suggest the two of you to leave to go address your wounds. Without a delay may I add."
The men leered between the bowman and the wizard, but naturally realized the old man to be right. Tardily pulling the arrows from their flesh, recovering their weapons and heading towards the end of the street, however stopping as another unexpected arrow was shot and it hit to the belt of the other bounty hunter. Or more specifically to a small pouch that hung from it, which after a swift examination seemed to be filled with money. The bounty hunters turning around to see the bowman to beckon towards the similar pouch at the second one's belt with their fresh arrow, getting the idea also the bald one relieving himself of his coins with a murderous scowl. Dropping the money, the still armed bow following after them as long as they remained in the traveler's vision and once they were gone she disarmed it with a fluent, learned move. Pushing the arrow into the quiver with one hand as hopped down to the street, her knees getting a new coating of mud as she landed with a splash, her however not making even an attempt of removing her hood even now as pretty much bypassed the wizard and his dwarf companion upon collecting the rest of her arrows. Wiping them into her cloak, feeling Thorin's eyes on her as she lastly strode over to the pouches of money. The dwarf not making out her face any better than he had before, and nothing about her hinted of her identity, the bowman who'd just aided them out of nowhere looking like a common traveler to him. And that's exactly what she was, only that Thorin didn't know it, him taking a step closer to her.
"Who are you?"
Instead of responding the traveler took one of the money pouches and threw it to Thorin, bending her head as a sign of goodbye before turning around herself and walking past him. The men watching as the silent figure went over to one of the nearby alleys to go fetch the rest of their effects before walking past them again, walking to the same direction as the bounty hunters, but they didn't seem all that concerned about that. Soon her hearing Thorin to call out to her, and upon looking behind briefly she discovered him to have settled for her silence. However as a form of gratitude returning the money back to her, matching the slight tilt of her head as for the first time Thorin could barely see a pair of eyes he reckoned to be green looking back at him in the light of a street lamp, meeting them, before the traveler was once again on their way along the street. As he and Gandalf followed her to disappear into the night the wizard pointing his staff to her direction, amused.
"Perhaps you should choose her as one of the twelve in your company."
"What? A man I just met?"
"There was no man here, Thorin. And she just saved your neck…With quite a steady arm if I so say myself."
Thorin stood there, staring to the direction the stranger had left, but before he could say anything and turned, he noticed Gandalf to have vanished as well. Him shaking his head at his wizard's antics, coming to think that although Gandalf had seemed to have seen through the cloak and the hood shadowing the bowman's frame and face, there had been nothing in those eyes curtly holding his which would've suggested the person to be a woman. Least of all that slight trace of combat skill he'd witnessed that reminded him more of a style a man would apply.