Hello there! Only one day late today, so we're getting a little better! Thank you to my lovely reviewers, I hope that you enjoy this chapter, too! As ever, I also hope that you can forgive the inevitable mistakes in this chapter.
Chapter Sixty-Nine: The Road to Ithilien
For a full day and all of the following night, Nelly and Bróin rode without halting. They did not eat or drink or rest, though Nelly dozed off once or twice. She was always woken by the cold of the wind whipping through her, lashing easily through the thin rags that Saruman had provided, no matter how Bróin tried to keep his arm wrapped around her. No matter how he tried to keep her warm.
But as the sun rose towards noon on the second day, Nelly knew that they needed to stop soon. She needed to drink something, to eat something – her head was aching nearly as much as her stomach, and she could feel her pulse begin to flutter a little. She also knew that Bróin was likely even more exhausted than she was. He had not slept a wink. There was a part of her that did not want to stop – she had no idea where they were, or if they had come far enough to be safely out of Saruman's clutches. If they stopped, they would be even more vulnerable. And when they stopped, they would have to address the fact that they had no food, and no water. They had no weapons and no medical supplies, no maps, no plan – they barely even had clothes. A single tunic was not appropriate travel attire for a hobbit or a dwarf, no matter how oversized it may be. When they stopped, Nelly and Bróin would have to figure out what to do.
But as the landscape changed around them, and a small forest came into view on the horizon, Nelly knew that they could not go much further. She took Bróin's arm, and at once he leant forward to listen.
"We should stop. Find somewhere to rest."
Bróin nodded wearily. "Those trees up there?"
"Great minds," Nelly replied, and Bróin urged the warg onwards. In moments, the trees closed over their heads, and a wonderful sound filled Nelly's ears. "I hear a stream!"
They steered away to the right, and sure enough there was a small, bubbling stream. Bróin pulled the warg to a halt, and then paused.
"Do you think it'll attack us when we get down?"
Nelly froze, considering this disturbing possibility. The warg was breathing heavily, and growling as it panted, with foam around its hideous jaw. But it looked around cautiously, with eyes alight with awareness, and Nelly did not think the beast was half as tired as it should be. It certainly did not look too tired to try and kill them.
"I'll go first," said Bróin slowly, working it out as he spoke. "You hold the reins, keep its head away from me, and I'll tie it to a tree."
"With what?" asked Nelly warily. "The reins aren't that long."
Bróin wiggled behind her as he spoke. "There might be something of the saddle we can – hang on!"
"What?"
"There's a saddle-bag! There's two!"
Nelly blinked, taken aback. She did not remember seeing any saddle-bags in the barn – if she had, she would have been rummaging for food yesterday. "What? Where?"
"There're tied beneath the saddle," said Bróin, his voice strained as he leant down. "Ah! Here's one!"
Nelly twisted her upper body around as Bróin brought up a dirty leather bag, with straps that had clearly attached it to the saddle. "Is there food?"
Bróin ripped it open and stared inside, his nose instantly wrinkling up. "Urgh, it stinks! But aye, Nelly, there's rope in here! And food!"
Nelly was unashamed as a whimper tore from her throat, but Bróin paused, holding the bag close.
"We should get down first. My legs are killing me."
Despite herself Nelly nodded, taking the saddle-bag as Bróin reached under and retrieved the other. Nelly took the rope from the saddlebag and looped it through the harness over the warg's face, tying it as securely as she could. Then, she held onto the reins, and Bróin leapt down. At once, the warg twisted around with a snarl, but Nelly yanked hard on the reis and pulled its head back around. It howled, and Bróin darted forward, grabbing the rope newly tied to the beast's halter. He raced to a great tree nearby and ran the rope around it, tying it fast.
Then, to Nelly's great relief, he danced out of reach of the warg's jaws.
"Alright," he said, nodding at Nelly. "Now!"
She jumped down, racing away from the warg before it could snap at her. It lunged after her, but the rope pulled it short and it retreated, whining piteously.
A hand rested on Nelly's shoulder and she jolted, her heart racing even as she saw Bróin beside her. He smiled wearily.
"Let's eat."
There were several 'edible' items in the warg's saddlebags, but none of them were particularly appetising. There was stale, near moulding bread, and strips of dried meat, along with some unpleasantly green hard-tack like biscuits, and a couple of small, dark pudding like things which looked suspiciously close to the colour of blood. There were also two flasks of orc draught, by the smell of it, and a small supply of bandages stuffed right at the bottom of the bag.
Not knowing when they would next get a chance to find food, Nelly and Bróin shared out four days worth of meagre rations, and then collapsed beneath a nearby tree, nibbling on a small square of foul bread each. Nelly was not quite hungry enough to eat unknown meat from the bag of an orc, but Bróin took a few pieces, weighing them in his hand. He sniffed them cautiously, and grimaced. Then, he nodded.
"This is my share of the meat, alright Nell?"
"You can have the whole share of the meat – I'm not that starving yet," she said, shuddering.
Bróin nodded again, and then he stood up. Nelly watched, frowning, as he walked slowly over towards the warg, but when the creature got to its feet, so did Nelly.
"Bróin! What are you doing, get away!"
The warg snarled at her, but Bróin held up his empty hand placatingly. "It's alright," he said, in a low, soothing voice. The wolf growled in reply
"Are you mad?" hissed Nelly, her heart thudding in her chest as Bróin stepped within swiping distance. "Bróin-"
He tossed the dried meat towards the warg and it jerked away. Bróin retreated quickly, his palms open before him, and Nelly seized his arm.
"What in Durin's name do you think you're doing?" she cried, and when he turned to look at her, Bróin's smile died.
"You're shaking," he said, reaching toward her, but she jerked away and punched his shoulder, even as her other hand pinched his arm tighter.
"What was that? You think I want to come this way only to watch you get torn to pieces? You think I want to be alone out here – you think I want to lose you, too?"
"I'm sorry!" he rushed, his eyes wide and vulnerable. "I wasn't – I didn't think of it like that Nelly, I didn't mean to scare you."
"Then how did you think of it?" she demanded, a shiver of cold running through her as the creature stared at them.
"That warg is our best chance of survival. We've got little in the way of food, we've no weapons or transport – by Mahal, Nelly, we hardly have clothes! If we keep it fed, earn its trust, we might get further."
"Earn its trust? That's a warg, not a wolf, Bróin. They are evil."
"I don't know about that," Bróin mused, staring at the deformed creature. "I was talking to Beorn once, when I was little. He said that he thought it was a mistake to assume that any creature other than orc or goblin or troll is ever born evil."
"And he should've added wargs to that list."
"No, he said that wargs were different. That they were like horses – see, orcs and goblins and trolls all had their brains twisted and broken, they can't feel kindness or mercy or love, but Beorn said that Sauron never thought the minds of animals worth breaking. That they could be trained, and violence and obedience could be bred into them, so there was no need to waste power ensuring that they would never 'turn to the light.' Beorn said he met a tame warg once, owned by a travelling performer. He said that they are dangerous, and more prone to violence than wolves. He said that wargs are trained to enjoy the kill, and that they can become as evil as their masters, but he did say they are not born evil," Bróin said earnestly, his eyes boring into Nelly's in a clear attempt to try and convince her.
Nelly saw right through him. "You're starting to like the damned thing, aren't you?"
Bróin shrugged. "Maybe. But there's a practical side to it too, Nell. We have-"
"No weapons, no transport, I know." She sighed heavily, kneading her eyes with her knuckles. "I just… I don't want to get your hopes up, Bróin, and gave your hand bitten off. This isn't some abandoned warg pup you might be able to teach some manners to, it's full grown. If you get attached and we have to put it down…"
Bróin opened his mouth and then shut it again, sinking down to the ground. He hung his head and sniffed, rubbing his nose on his sleeve. For a long moment he did not say anything, and Nelly sat down beside him. He rested his head on his shoulder. "I just want something to go right, Nell. I just… I don't want to have to kill anything for a while and, and when it whines I hear Nyla and I miss her."
A lump grew in Nelly's throat even as Bróin spoke, and wove her arm around his shoulders. "I miss Kya, too. And I miss my brother, and Merry and Frodo and Sam and Vinca – I even miss Pearl, I never thought I'd say that."
Bróin gave a watery laugh and shifted around, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in her shoulder. She rubbed his back gently and ran her fingers through his hair.
"We'll keep Toothy for now, then, Bróin," she murmured. "Let's get a drink and get some sleep, alright?"
With a heavy sigh, Bróin nodded. Together, they stumbled down to the stream, and Nelly's heart sung at the first taste of clean water that had touched her tongue in what felt like weeks. She drank until her stomach swam, and then washed her face and hands in the water. It felt wonderful to be clean, to wash away the filth and fear of Isengard, and Nelly wished that she could dive in for a full bath, but the water was so cold that it bit her fingers.
Then, they returned to where they had left the warg, which growled and raised its hackles. Nelly stared at it apprehensively, and then her eyes wondered up the trees around them.
"If we're going to be camping with a warg, I vote we sleep like the Galadhrim," she said, and Bróin nodded. She looked at him carefully. His eyes were glazing over slightly, and his head was slowly swaying a little from side to side, and she knew that he would agree with whatever she said at this point. He had finally allowed his fatigue to catch him, and Nelly knew that he would be out in a matter of minutes, like a dwindling candle that had finally been blown out. She took his hand and led him to a large, tall tree, and they climbed until she was happy that the warg could not reach them, if it happened to gnaw through its rope.
She found a great nook of knotted branches that would form a platform wide enough to sleep on, and they lay down together. Nelly herself was tucked against the tree trunk with Bróin behind her, and she closed her eyes.
"Nell?"
"Mm?"
"Do you mind if we snuggle?" mumbled Bróin.
Nelly opened her eyes, frowning. She peered over her shoulder. "Since when do you ask?"
Bróin shrugged, his hazy eyes searching for hers. "Don't know. I was just thinking about what our amads would say if they could see us now."
Nelly laughed, imagining the horrified yet unsurprised look on Eglantine Took's face if she was able to see her daughter half naked in a tree with a man she was not married to. "It's alright, Bróin. Snuggle away. I'd rather get yelled at by my mother than freeze to death in the night."
Bróin smiled and wrapped his arms around her, and she rested her head on his arm. A warm feeling that was very close to safety washed over her and only a few moments later, Bróin began to snore gently. Sleep was quick to take her, too, and when morning came she was happy to see that Bróin's eyes were a little brighter.
They shimmied down the tree, and to Nelly's surprise found that the warg was still there, and had not seemed to attempt to gnaw through the rope. It snarled at them as they got down, but did not lunge.
Nelly and Bróin ate their petty rations, and once again Bróin threw a little jerky to the warg. Again, they drank from the stream, choosing to save their orc draught for later – a move that was partially due to tactics, but mainly due to the both of them utterly dreading the thought of tasting it again.
Then, they slowly approached the warg.
"Stay," said Bróin in a low, commanding voice, and though the warg growled, it did not move as Nelly and Bróin grew closer, and it did not thrash when they mounted. Bróin let out a small laugh, and patted the creature's flank. "Good boy," he said, and Nelly rolled her eyes.
She leant over to the tree and untied the warg, glancing over her shoulder to pass the rope to Bróin, and she smiled at the grin on his face.
"So," she said, "we keep going south-east?"
Bróin shrugged. "I assume so. Do you know where we are?"
"No…" Nelly pursed her lips. "From the landscape and those mountains in the far south we saw yesterday I'd guess we were well into the Eastfold of Rohan now, near half way to Ithilien, but we can't be, not in two days' of journeying."
"Unless what Saruman said about his wargs were true," said Bróin, and then he looked away.
Her stomach coiling, Nelly turned to the front herself. If what Saruman said was true, that was all well and good for Nelly and Bróin, but it also meant that a great host of wargs and orcs had come down upon Bilbo and Dís, and that did not bode well for them.
"Let's just go," said Bróin. "Find Frodo."
"Aye," said Nelly, wiping her nose on her shoulder and nodding, pretending that it was as simple as it sounded. "Go find Frodo."
After steering the warg down to the stream that it might drink too, they set off, riding through the entirety of the day. When night came, and they halted, Bróin again threw his meat rations (and one of the horribly blood-like puddings) at the warg. This time, it did not so much as growl, and curled up before them, its head resting on its paws. It stared at them as they ate, but made no sound. That night they slept again in the trees, but come morning the warg did not even growl when they approached it to ride.
On the third night, however, the portions were running low, and Nelly watched as Bróin hand-fed 'Toothy' his own biscuits. Sighing heavily, Nelly split her own share in half, passing it to Bróin when he returned to her side.
"No." He frowned, pushing her hand away. "That's not fair, that's your portion. And I'm a dwarf, I don't need as much food."
"We both know you've essentially got a hobbit's stomach, and that dwarves still class you on the 'child' side of adolescence, Bro. If you don't eat it, I'll shove it down your throat in your sleep," she promised, and Bróin smiled sheepishly, taking the share.
"Thank you, Nelly."
She leant against him. "You're welcome."
All of a sudden, the warg stiffened, rising to its feet, and Nelly tensed, seizing Bróin's arm. The beast was staring at them and breathing heavily, and its hackles were slowly raising.
"Bróin-" Nelly whispered.
"I know," he whispered back. "The tree there, climb!"
They had no chance to climb. The warg pounced, leaping into a bush to its right, and there was a great squealing sound, and then silence. The two friends sat frozen, with painful grips on each other's arms as they watched the warg slowly back out of the bushes, its face torn from the thorns, and a large, dead badger clenched in its jaw.
"Oh, thank Mahal," breathed Nelly, lowering her head to her knees as the warg began to eat, ripping its prey apart and chomping indiscriminately through meat and bone.
"Nearly gave us a heart attack there, Toothy," said Bróin, laughing breathlessly, and the warg paused in its gorging, looking deep into Bróin's eyes. Bróin held up his hands. "Hey, you caught it. We won't take it from you. We won't hurt you, if you don't hurt us."
'Toothy,' as the warg had apparently been named, stared for a long moment, and then returned to eating.
"You really think it understands us?" whispered Nelly, and Bróin shrugged.
"Maybe. Our wolves do. I know they're special, but Beorn says animals know more than you think, even if they don't understand word for word."
"You've been spending too much time with Beorn, I think," she teased, wrinkling her nose slightly at the warg's bloody table manners.
It stopped eating again and looked up, and Nelly wondered if she had been caught staring. But then the warg returned to what was left of the badger, a large, back leg and part of the flank, and tossed it with his nose.
It landed by Bróin's feet.
Then, the warg curled up into a small ball, tucking its bloodied muzzle beneath its hind leg, and its eye half closing even as it watched Bróin.
Bróin looked at Nelly, his face as stunned as she was. Then he beamed. "Thank you, Toothy! Do you think we can risk a fire?"
"Aye," said Nelly, her stomach growling at the thought of roasted meat. "Far better than we can risk eating unknown badger meat raw, to be honest." She scampered to her feet and darted through the trees, picking up whatever kindling and firewood she could find. Faster than ever before, she gathered enough for a fire, stacking it a safe distance away from their canine companion.
Bróin seemed to have forgone safe distances all together, and was scratching the warg behind its ears, though he dropped that task to help Nelly start the fire. Soon, the smell of roast meat was making Nelly's stomach seize in desire, and though it felt like the cooking took an age, at last Bróin removed the meat from the spit, and they ate like animals, tearing chunks off with their teeth.
Nelly's stomach sang with gratitude as she ate, and as she finished the meat and licked the juice from her fingers, she realised that for the first time since the fellowship had been shattered, she actually felt full.
Leaning happily against Bróin, she gazed at Toothy. It was easier to grant it a name, and think kindly of it, now that it had fed her.
That said, there was no denying that it was a warg even uglier than any Nelly had seen up close. Its snout was short and deformed, and its face twisted almost as though it had run into a wall, and the muscles of its legs were almost disproportionately large. Curled up as it was, it looked almost sweet.
"I know that it'll take more than three days, and that it might all go horribly wrong," murmured Bróin, "but I think we'll be alright with Toothy, Nell."
"I hope so," she replied, smiling a little. "Until Kya sees how much attention you're giving him, of course."
That night, they slept on the ground.
The morning dawned with rain and drizzle, but Nelly was alive to see it, so she did not mind too much at first. Once more, she and Bróin scraped a little breakfast and gave what spare they had to Toothy, and then they mounted and began to ride.
But though the rain was not heavy, it was relentless, and soon Nelly was soaked, and shivering. To make matters worse, the rain-soaked rags that she wore were clinging to every inch of her, and the same was true for Bróin. For the first time in her life, Nelly felt a little awkward to be so close to him, and so very close to naked. He had stopped holding her, choosing instead to hold the reins, and when their wet feet touched Bróin jolted, and mumbled an apology.
She glanced over her shoulder, and saw that he was a violent shade of red, and looking rather uncomfortable himself. That was enough for Nelly – it was one thing that she should feel odd, but Bróin need not feel bad for things he could not control.
"Don't feel bad, Bro. You know, I'm getting quite cold."
He lowered his eyebrows in concern. "Are you sure?"
"Aye," she said with a smile. "Stop worrying about what our mother's will think of this, will you?"
He laughed, and she shuffled back so that his chest was pressed against her. He wrapped one arm around her, and at once she did feel much warmer. And she felt comfortable again, though there was an odd tingling in her spine that she could not place.
As they rode through the rain, Nelly became surer and surer that somehow, despite the seemingly impossible distance, they had already made it to Ithilien. Though she had never been there before, it was a land as Boromir had described around campfires in the earlier, less desperate days of their journey. There was beautiful but abandoned woodland, and rolling hills, and the shadow of Mordor on the horizon.
Around them there grew herbs that she could not name, scents released by the rain that she only recognised from some of Bombur's more flamboyant baking endeavours. She was sure that Bróin could name them, and rather sure that she should be able to as well, but for now she would simply enjoy them.
There was little else to enjoy.
The land was vast, and full of places to hide. Though they had slowed to a swift walking pace, they would still have little chance of espying two hobbits. What was worse, they had the mountains of Mordor dangerously close by, and should any orcs pass through they would be in no position to fight back. On the other hand, thinking to what Boromir had said of Ithilien, Nelly remembered that Rangers of Gondor still patrolled here. She doubted that they would look before they shot at anything that was riding on a warg.
"Maybe this was a mistake," Nelly whispered, tightening her arm around Bróin's. "Anyone we find here will kill us before they can see who we are."
"What else could we do, though?" asked Bróin, sounding equally afraid. "We've come all this way."
"I don't know." Nelly's throat felt thick with tears that begged to be shed. She bit her lip, hard, and then closed her eyes. "I think – I just want to go home, Bróin."
At once, both of Bróin's arms wrapped around her, and he rested his head on her shoulder. "Me too," he whispered, sorrow cracking his voice wide open.
"Let's go home," she whispered, pressing her cheek against his shoulder. "Please."
Bróin nodded, sniffing, and he lifted a hand from the reins to wipe his face. In that moment, Toothy stuck his head in the air, and then dropped it straight to the ground. He began to sniff, and then he began to run with his nose to the ground. Bróin pulled him to a stop and he whined, his nose pressed against the ground, though he made no move to go on without the dwarf's consent.
Nelly looked up at Bróin and shrugged. "He might've found a deer or something. Be good to get more dinner."
"S' what I thought," mumbled Bróin, loosening his grip on the reins. "Off you go then, Toothy."
The warg shot forward, weaving a path around trees and bushes, and occasionally stopped to retrace his steps, only to redouble his speed onward. Then he slowed, and paused, and then sank low to the ground, prowling slowly up a small rock face. At the top, Nelly could see an overhang that might belie a small cave, and a sudden fear that they were about to accidentally ambush Ithilien rangers burst through her. She held on to Bróin as tightly as she could, and the warg came to the top of the rocks and stuck his head into the cave.
A horrified screech ripped into the air, followed by another, and Nelly and Bróin screamed to, clutching at each other as Bróin pulled Toothy backwards.
But then Nelly saw who was screaming, and drawing his sword to them, and a cry of relief ripped from her throat.
"Frodo! Sam!"
Frodo froze, his sword in the air, and his mouth dropped open. "N-Nelly? Bróin?"
"What the devil are you two doing on a warg?" cried Sam, looking pale as a waning moon. He was still brandishing his sword at Toothy, but Nelly did not care. She fell from the warg's back and hurtled herself forward, throwing her arms around Frodo's neck and squeezing him as tightly as her shaking arms would allow.
She heard his sword clatter to the ground as he wrapped his arms around her, holding her just as tightly. Behind her, Bróin tied Toothy to a nearby tree and then leapt at Sam, engulfing him in a hug so fierce that the hobbit let out a strangled laugh of protest.
"What happened?" Frodo demanded, pulling away from Nelly to stare her up and down. When he saw what she was wearing, and her bare legs, he let out a cry. "What happened? Where are your clothes?"
"In Isengard," Nelly replied, her eyes swimming with tears. "Frodo, I'm so glad to see you, I'm so glad you got away!" she collapsed into his arms again, and she could hear the fear in his voice as he wrapped his cloak, and then his arms, around her.
"Isengard?"
"Let's get everyone out of the rain first, before we go worrying about Isengard," said Sam tightly, and Nelly glanced over to see him wrapping his cloak around Bróin. "Now I assume that great warg there isn't going to eat us?"
"No, he's friendly," said Bróin. "At least, friendly as warg's come."
It was a little warmer in the cave, and the four sat down together in a circle so tight that it would have been uncomfortable on any other day. Today, to be able to touch Frodo and Sam and know that they were alive and unhurt was everything that Nelly needed.
"So where are the others?" asked Frodo, and Nelly froze. Grief choked her, and as Frodo's face fell to horror, she found that she could not talk at all. She hung her head, and Bróin did the talking for her.
"We don't know," he said shakily. "We were caught, and – Gimli and Aragorn and Boromir and Legolas, we heard that they were in Rohan, but I don't, I don't know if the man was lying and – and…"
"And?" whispered Frodo.
"Merry and Pippin… Saruman says that they are dead," croaked Bróin, and Nelly squeezed her eyes shut as Frodo cried out.
"Dead? No, no! That can't be – you – are you sure?"
Bróin gave a small sniff. "We don't know, but the orcs that grabbed them were all dead and Saruman said, and Gríma said, and…"
"Well, I for one don't trust a single thing that Saruman says," said Sam bluntly, though his voice trembled badly. "And who's this Gríma, when he's at home? I think you best just tell us everything that's happened since Rauros."
Taking a deep breath, Nelly opened her eyes and looked at Bróin. His shoulders slumped, and he sighed. Steadying herself as best she could, Nelly began to speak. She told Frodo and Sam what had happened when they fled, and how the orcs had captured her, and left Bróin for dead. He stepped in then, explaining how he had found the orc draught and followed her, and why he had revealed himself in a fight he knew he could not win.
When Bróin spoke of seeing Nelly on the ground beneath the orc Frodo went positively green, and Sam as red as a fire. She took over the story then, speaking of their hellish road to Isengard, and what they had faced when they got there. Her stomach churned when she spoke of the interrogations, and the information that they had been forced to give. She relayed what Gríma had told them as accurately as she could, and described the strange battle with the trees as best as she could. Bróin took over once more, telling of finding the warg in the stables and their journey since.
When he finished, silence fell thick and heavy upon them. Frodo was staring at the floor, his hands shaking, and Sam's grip on Nelly's fingers was so strong that they had become numb.
"Well," said Sam slowly, clearing his throat before speaking again. "I'm awfully sorry that all that happened to you, and if I'd've known I'd've turned back at once – and what's more, if I ever get my hands on Saruman he'll be mighty sorry, I'll tell you that."
Nelly smiled, squeezing Sam's hand. "I'm sure he will be."
Sam smiled back. "But what's more, I think you're making a big mistake thinking that our Merry and Pippin are dead based on the word of a bunch of uruks, a dark wizard, and a man who quite frankly sounds no more respectable than that Alfrid Lickspittle of Lake-Town – you know, the homeless man that used to be an advisor to the Master. So 'Gríma' says that the men of Rohan cut them down – well, I don't think much of that. There're good honest people in Rohan, that's what Bilbo says and what Boromir says, and I reckon they know the difference between orcs, and not orcs, if you follow. Now they might've thought them to be children and not hobbits, but either way I don't think they'll've hurt them. It wouldn't surprise me at all if the two rascals are holed up in some hall somewhere, drinking and eating to their heart's content."
"He's right," said Frodo earnestly. "Saruman would have every reason to make you think that they are dead, but really there's no proof."
Nelly looked away, biting down on her lip. She wanted to agree with them, more than anything else in the world she wished that she could agree with them, but Nelly had believed her brother dead for over four days. It was not as simple as just choosing to believe that maybe all the proof that they had was wrong.
But then Bróin spoke. "There was something that Boromir told me, when we were in Moria. When I was worried about Bofin, he said that he had no proof that anything was wrong with Faramir, and therefore he could choose to believe that everything was alright."
"Aye," said Sam, patting Nelly's knee as Frodo wrapped his arm around her shoulder. "I don't think they're dead, Nelly. Truly, I don't. We have to keep hopeful now, or that darned place over there-" he jerked his thumb over his shoulder in the general direction of Mordor "-or that damned thing around Frodo's neck will start driving us mad. Not that I blame you, though. After going through what you've been through, no one could blame you for thinking the worst."
"Kíli thought the worst in Goblin Town, when Bilbo fell," said Frodo gently. "And just think how long Dís and Fíli and Thorin thought that Fíli was dead. You can't give up hope, Nell. Really, we don't know what happened."
She stared at him for a long moment. "You truly think they might be alive, after everything that we've told you?"
"Yes," said Frodo sincerely. "I truly do."
Nelly wiped her eyes and gave a small smile. "Very well."
"Now, let's get some clothes on you both," said Sam, digging around in one of the bags behind him. "We must have something…"
Frodo pursed his lips. "I don't know what we have. We left most of the baggage on the boat."
"Aha!" Sam pulled out a single pair of trousers, and then dug a little deeper to find a pair of dwarven under-trousers. At once, he passed the underwear to Bróin and the outer trousers to Nelly. She hesitated, but all three of the boys began insisting at once that she should wear them, and she laughed a little.
"Alright, alright. Why, you care more that I'm half naked than half starved!" she joked, and at once Frodo passed her a piece of lembas. She smiled, and kissed her cousin's cheek. "Thank you, Frodo."
"You're alright now," he said, turning to give Bróin some lembas too. He put a hand on the young dwarf's shoulder. "Both of you. We'll look after you."
Bróin laughed, but it was in a vulnerable, child-like voice that he replied. "We're supposed to be looking after you."
"And I'm sure you will," said Frodo. "But for now, we will look after you."
"You've gone through far worse than we have," added Sam sadly.
"But you're safe now. Well, safe as can be in uncharted land on the way to Mordor," said Frodo, the hint of a jest on his cheeks.
Even as she hugged Frodo, Nelly looked over his shoulder at Bróin. Their eyes were both filled with tears, and she knew that he was thinking the same thing that she was. Finally, finally, something had gone their way.
I hope that you enjoyed that (slightly late) chapter! This has been in the plans for a good while now and I'm so excited that the reunion will take place. I just wonder how Gollum will feel about this when he returns….
Please do leave any feedback that you would like, I really appreciate it, and thank you for reading!