Hey everyone. Turns out I did need that extra week – had double exams this past one. However, you all get this one a day early. Yay! Now I know I promised Thorin spilling his guts in this chapter, but it really became its own thing. So instead we have helpful and sassy ass Tauriel. Since Tauriel didn't seem like a normal elf (flirting with dwarves and all that) I thought I would give her character a little booster shot with some humor. We are gonna need it when we hit the Misty Mountains…let me tell you. And since I have some overflow, that means that I will have the next part up in two weeks or sooner! ;)
Again thank you so much everyone for your reviews on and the well wishes on my notice. Every kind word is appreciated – and constructive criticism is welcome.
angel897, Guest 1, Winter's Thunder – Thank you for the kind words and I hope you like this part!
QueefCream – Much like her relationship with Thorin I want it to grow with time. Most of the antagonism between the two stems from the unknown. I personally don't like that Gandalf knows EVERYONE so meeting unknown elements along with Tahna's general apprehension just made for a couple stormy months. Now as they understand each other thing will get better.
inperfection – I'm glad you liked the reveal. I also hope you like how I did the company's take on the matter as well. As to Lindir, the dinner disaster is by far my favorite expression of his. :)
0x0UnderDog0x0 – Thanks for the suggestion. I went back and filled in those translations I totally forgot to go back in and fill those so thank you for the heads up. :)
ro781727 – I know it's been a while since we PM'ed and I do plan to go back and fix the Iglishmek and Khazdul SNAFU. sadly I haven't had time to check out the sites you sent me, but I will get to it soon because I want to fix these details before ploughing to far ahead. Thank you for keeping my Tolkien Universe straight! :)
LucarioKid – I promise to respond to your PM, but since you very sweet in letting me know you liked my story I thought I would say here first thank you and I hope you like this part.
Everyone please be sure to check out QueefCream's story: Lians' Contingency. She just recently completed it and while bittersweet, the ending made it complete.
One of my reviewers is Lesliezin. I absolutely love her Thorin/OC story: A Shadowed Companion. It's a female ranger who follows the company at Gandalf's request. All should read, it's fantastic and I can't wait for the next chapter.
Also while I don't think she has read my story I want to give a shout out to JMac322. She has just started the second part to her Thorin/OC story and I absolutely love it. Check out both parts. The first one is Home is Behind and the second part is The World Ahead. We correspond regularly so I'm sure she would love more conversation than just me! Go check her stuff out!
Elves watch me as I stride past them with purpose. They whisper to one another and observe me cautiously as they make it a point to stay out of my way. I ignore them until I require directions, suddenly turning to whoever happens to be near. It usually surprises whoever I ask; however, I ran into the elf maid from dinner the night before and it seems that regardless of my treatment of her kin, she is still enamored with the ranger persona. That is, of course, if her blush is anything to go by.
The southern groves are relatively easy to locate once I discover they are almost entirely cherry trees. I have only ever tasted the sweet fruit once or twice, and while you cannot smell them from the perches amongst the trees, just seeing their bright red skin is enough to get my mouth watering. Before my craving can overwhelm me I shake off the distraction and return to the task at hand.
I'm not quite sure what I'll do if Tauriel refuses to help me. As I began to weave through the trees I am starting to realize just how much my "wonderful" plan hinges on her assistance. She owes me nothing and I owe her everything; she could easily say no and turn away. I'm sure that Thorin and the others would turn red with indignation that I even thought to acquire assistance from an elf, but Tauriel isn't most elves.
The grove is quite beautiful. The path I walk along is made of pale grey stones, having an almost white appearance. The leaves of the tall trees are bright green from the summer sun. The leaves rustle in the wind and jostle the bright red fruit alluringly. I sigh loudly; it is becoming apparent that I should have eaten before I went to investigate what had become of the dwarves this morning. I am starting to romanticize fruit.
I follow the path until there is a slight opening in the trees. I find a large green lawn with elves of all ages scattered about. Older ones sit to read or watch their children, who act out their favorite stories or play games like Seeker. In the center of the rolling green is a small pavilion made of intricately carved mahogany wood. Each exterior post breaks into smaller weavings that cross over the other breaks in another post to knot together at the top to provide the roof. The small pavilion houses two small benches, one of which sits Tauriel with a male elf I do not recognize. Luckily, she sees me and waves me over.
I clearly stick out amongst the elves in my black ranger garb. As I quickly make distance across the grassy surface, some elves inconspicuously grab their children to leave. They do not look at me, but they do not have to. I know this is because of the elf I hit the night before and though I do not regret my actions, I cannot deny that on some level it upsets me. I did not come to Rivendell to make friends, but I had not intended to bring fear into the homes of these elves. It saddens me that the elves fear for their children when I am near and that they must keep them from me; it is unlike the villages of men where I am welcomed far more warmly. While I have not earned such kindness I can't help wishing things could be different…
I do my best to ignore how much this bothers me as I approach Tauriel. She stands and embraces me, which I return, adamantly. I unconsciously hold her longer than I should and once I realize it my head hangs slightly lower, ashamed.
"Avathos baudh an cenedan eithai o mellon, Thoronen," she says gently.
A small smile comes to my face upon hearing the title both Tauriel and her father had bestowed me. It is enough to banish my embarrassment and look her in the eye. She wears a smile as well and her eyes shine brightly.
"Ihen?" asks the male beside Tauriel.
I look down at the elf sitting on the bench. His hair is a light brown color; all of it tied back into a ponytail with a leather thong. Unlike Tauriel, who still sports her tunic and breeches, wears a long flowing robe of light red material. I can vaguely see along his face the similar earthy tones that separate Tauriel from the Noldor or Sindar elves, but his posture and countenance does its best to imitate them; therefore I do not like him. Despite this, I will remain civil for Tauriel's sake…
"Hilas, this is Tahna. She's my ranger friend I have told you about," she answers. "Tahna, this is my cousin, Hilas."
My manners resurface as I extend my hand to the elf with a small bow. He stands and returns the gesture. The moment his hand touches mine he looks up at me with a sassy smile on his face. It reminds me eerily of the flirtatious expression Tauriel had given Kili the night before. He examines my mask with great curiosity.
"Lady Tahna," he acknowledges.
"Master Hilas," I respond. He gives me a quick smile before looking me over head to toe. I tense slightly at his scrutiny, but before I can comment he stands and looks to his cousin.
"Thelenni cendh na mat, gwenur," he says before leaving the pavilion and heading down the pathway I entered from. I watch him leave with glare of annoyance on my face; Tauriel ignores it, but navigates my body to take up the seat her cousin once occupied. Once she sits beside me I look back at her.
"What's wrong, Tahna?" she asks as she gently grips my arm.
"I need your help," I tell her earnestly.
"What can I do?"
"Lord Elrond has denied us passage into the High Pass. I need your help to sneak past the guards and get the company through."
She stares at me blankly for a moment, then she gently shakes her head from side to side.
"I don't understand…Why has Lord Elrond barred you from using the pass?" she asks.
I hesitate for a moment, knowing the time has come. I recall the half-truth I had given her the night before, and while she knew what it was, it didn't make what I am about to tell her any easier. I am only comforted by the fact that if it had to be any elf then at least it is Tauriel. Thorin may have my head for this later, but without Tauriel we would never see beyond the Misty Mountains.
"We are trying to reach the Lonely Mountain," I confess. "Lord Elrond fears that we may awaken the dragon and that it will journey west, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake."
There is a moment of silence as Tauriel takes in what I have just told her. "Then I was right," she says with a testy tone. "The kin you spoke of visiting are Erebor's dead if I'm not mistaken."
"I'm sorry that I did that," I answer her with what I hope she will recognize as sincere regret. "I…I was just trying to protect Thorin and the company."
"And you felt you needed to protect them from me?" she asks. Her tone is a little sad, but not angry. In fact, the lack of accusation in her voice has me staring at her face. However, I only see her usual understanding and kind expression. "I feel like I should be offended," she continues, "But you worry about them, and the relationship between elves and dwarves is hardly friendly. You wish for them to succeed so badly that you would protect them from me…I can't help feeling proud."
I can feel my eyes widen at her statement and it takes a moment for me to compose myself. "That's not what I had expected you to say."
She smiles brilliantly, "I understand. I'm head of Thranduil's guard and regardless of our friendship it is grounds for concern, but fear not for I shall not tell him of your plans."
A smile is hidden again by my mask. "I thank you."
After a brief pause of relief for me the conversation suddenly turns very serious. "If I do help you into the High Pass I need you to promise me something."
"What is it?" I ask. Her grip on my arm tightens and she keeps her eyes locked with mine.
"I need you to promise me you will not enter the Greenwood."
My heart freezes momentarily as I consider her request. I would never willingly enter the forest again, but I understand her concern. Thorin and the others desperately want to return to the mountain and I have been following their lead. If they decided to cut through Thranduil's realm I have no doubt that I would follow them; even my own fears wouldn't stop me from helping them, but I would be lying if I said that the thought didn't terrify me. As if sensing the fear I am experiencing Tauriel stands, and leads me to stand by lifting my arm with her hand; the movement jars me from my thoughts and providing me some relief by moving. We are joined at the elbow as we continue onto another path through the grove.
"I know you have no intention of going yourself, but dwarves are impatient creatures. I'm sure that if you told them about Gliwen they would not risk your life. Entering that forest will be your death. Thranduil has not forgotten and neither has Gelon."
I shudder a little at the mention of Gliwen's father. Thranduil, despite his promise for my execution should I enter his realm, doesn't scare me nearly as much as the thought of Gelon. It is said that once elves have allowed darkness to fill the spaces in their hearts they become orcs – I didn't know it was true until I had seen Gelon. After I had been brought to the elf king's palace with Gliwen dead in his arms, he had changed according to Hadrien. The hatred in his eyes never wavered. Looking at me directly would make his fingers twitch as though he could imagine choking the life out of me and the savage cries he had emitted as I was escorted from the elven kingdom were a sight I would never forget. I had created a monster…one that would, if given the chance, consume me.
"I know that you have prepared for such an instance," she says as she eyes my mask, "But I would rather it not come to pass."
"Neither would I," I answer humbly. "I promise that I will try my best-"
"That's not good enough," Tauriel cut in. We stop along the path and I can see a pained look in her eyes. It makes the light within them glow brighter. As I look at them I can recall a conversation I had with Hadrien shortly after our banishment from Mirkwood. We had spoken late into the night along the shores of Anfalas. My fellow rangers had spoken little to me since the incident and at the time Hadrien and Ethon were my only comfort…
"Why don't you hate me?" I detest the way my voice trembles as I ask out loud what had been on my mind since we left the great eastern forest.
"Hm?" he asks nonchalantly.
"I think I know why you saved me and I am truly grateful, but it cost you your home and your daughter. Don't you hate me for that?" I roll over so I could look the red haired elf in the eyes.
He turns his head to look at me; his warm brown eyes shine from the firelight. "Do you want me to hate you?" There is something sad in his tone even though there is a small smile on his face as if it was meant to be reassuring.
"No…But I'm curious why you don't already."
He chuckles lightly as he turns to look back up at the stars, the sounds of the ocean roaring in the background. It is a warm and deep sound that reminds me of thunderstorms across the plains of Rohan. It is not what I expected from an elf – most of them being so light and airy that they might float away. His is more deep and grounded.
"It would seem I have much to teach you."
Teach me? "I don't understand."
"Then maybe I should start with something familiar to you. One of the reasons I saved you is because you remind me of my daughter." That I understand…sort of…
"I do? How?"
"You both have a sense of duty to protect the world, and the people in it, from the shadows that dwell there. I can also see that both of you feel regretful for things that are beyond your control," at this his face falters a little.
"Did…did Tauriel do something wrong?" I hope that I am not crossing a boundary by asking.
"Her mother passed during childbirth and she holds herself personally responsible. I wish she could see that it was not her fault, but she does regardless," he says with a light frown. "Her mother and I love her so much…she never would have wanted her to feel guilty."
When I think of my mother it leaves me with a hollow and painful feeling in my chest. Looking at Hadrien I can see that he sincere and he is one of the few that makes me think telling him my story wouldn't pain me. There are only a handful of those in all of Arda; thinking about it reminds me that Ethon is sleeping a few bedrolls away. Before I know what I'm doing the words spill out of mouth, "Because of me, my mother and father are dead…and now Gliwen too."
He turns his head to look at me, all smiles gone and in its place a serious expression, "I don't believe that." All I have in response is silence. He can believe whatever he wants, but that doesn't change the fact that it's true.
"Can you guess what helped me to make up my mind to help you?" he continues.
"No," I say with a shake of my head.
"When you were brought before Thranduil and Gelon, your mind free from the forest's poison, you were in tears. There were even stains on your cheeks from when you had cried before I even saw you. It is clear just how much you regretted what you'd done," he pauses as if the image in his head was almost too much to bear. "In them I could see such sorrow and loss – hard and cold – that seemed to mirror a far off light, giving them the appearance of stars. Tauriel sometimes looks like she has stars in her eyes as well. It's a trait she shared with her mother and one you share with them."
Moments pass as I think on what he says. I remind him of the people he loves and it truly is a good reason, but he didn't need to do that. Tauriel still lives in the forest realm; I am not a necessity…there is no real point in keeping me alive. It…I just…I don't understand. Maybe I have more to learn than I thought…
"If I didn't have that trait would you not have saved me?"
"Maybe. Maybe not. I would like to think so, but in the end it doesn't matter. It does no one any favors to dwell on what might have been," he says solemnly. At first I think he's done and turn to look back up at the sky. Then he adds with a sharper tone, "Although…"
My head swiftly turns to see a strangled look on his face as wriggles on the top of his bedroll. "I'm sorely beginning to regret not having brought another set of small clothes. Why does sand have to stick to…everything?"
His nasally tone and scrunched facial expression as he shakes his butt dramatically are enough to cause me to laugh out loud – accidentally startling our watchman for the evening by the fire. He had confided in me as we left the Greenwood that he had never been very far south. While there is natural sand along the river and the Long Lake (places he had been) he has never had a reason to sleep on it. To maintain vigilance for our quarry we made camp on the beach so I can only guess this is his first time. I know I should stop laughing, but I hadn't laughed in so long, I couldn't help myself. Even when my eyes start watering from laughing so hard I could still make out the smile on his face as he watches me.
I could now see the same stars we had spoken of on the beach in her eyes. I could tell that she fears for me and once more guilt is a familiar friend. This elleth lost her father because of me and regardless of the time the three of us spent together outside of Mirkwood I could not shake the feeling that I caused her harm. Carrying Hadrien's body to the edges of Mirkwood had been one of the longest marches of my life. At the end of it she was there in tears with her kin around her. I had seen those stars then too and then also they held no anger. Instead, after holding her father's body in her arms, she held me and we cried together; like sisters. Our entire relationship is founded on my failures and indiscretions, but that never seems to bother her. I have her loyalty and her love, but both are more than I could ever hope deserve.
…Maybe I could convince Thorin to take the northern route. It would take some time, but there is no hurry. It is quicker than the south and while there are several dark creatures it wouldn't be my first time going that way. We could slip through…I'm sure we could. We could even resupply in Thoth if we had to…
"Tahna…" Tauriel starts.
"I promise," I answer finally, "I promise that I will not enter Thranduil's realm."
She searches my face for a moment to see if I have given her yet another of my half truths. When she is satisfied she nods and a small smile settles on her face.
"I know the entrance well," she says, changing the subject entirely. "There are two guards there at all times. Sometimes more when goblins are willing to risk getting a little closer to the valley. However, there should only be two for now. I can bring them something to drink and subdue them with sleeping draught."
"They will accept it?" I ask rather surprised.
"My cousin," she says cautiously, "is one of the guards."
I feel slightly remorseful, thinking she is choosing me over her cousin. His face flickers through my mind and as I recall the analytical look on his face my morose thoughts fade. I also remember that elves live forever – he can get over it when I'm dead. I need her help now; time is of the essence.
"How would you have us make our way?" I ask. "There will surely be a couple elves watching our rooms."
"Leave out the balcony stairs one at a time," she explains. "If you are cautious, but swift you should manage to avoid them. Since our vision is poorer at night they will most likely think it a trick of the light. After that keep travelling along the lower stone paths. They will bring you to a stairway that eventually leads to these groves. No one should be here at night and the darkness will provide the perfect cover for your friends." She ends the comment with a smile.
A small smirk forms on my face, "It's a shame Kili won't get to say goodbye," the smirk only growing when a light blush forms on her face, "I think he was looking forward to another hug."
"He's…rather tall for a dwarf isn't he?" asks Tauriel. I stare at her blatantly until she looks me in the eye. The large smile on my face is hidden beneath the cool metal. "That doesn't mean I like being fondled," she adds defensively.
"It wasn't fondling. He just wanted a hug and as I recall you had no problems wrapping your arms around him," I laugh lightly. Her face adds a light smile to the expression.
"I wasn't just going to let him fall!" she exclaims.
"Sadly, it doesn't seem like he reciprocated…" I mumble under my breath. However, when I see her eyes widen and she opens her mouth I decide to leave the comment where it died. "Did you know he's an extremely good archer?"
She looks like she wants to say something about the other comment, but ignores it and tries to move on. "Is that so? There are not very many dwarven archers?"
"Of course not," I say conspiratorially. "Could you imagine the pain of accidentally drawing your beard into the bow?"
She giggles a little, "I suppose I sympathize." Then she thinks a little more. "His beard is not nearly as large as the others. Is he quite young?"
"Not really. He is of age for a dwarf, but I suppose he is one of the youngest in the company."
"But no beard?" she ponders. "I confess though that the look does suite him."
The smile on my face lingers. Tauriel, as far as I know, has never looked at anyone with "that" sort of interest. She never spoke of men of any race when we met outside the borders of the forest; she is far too busy trying to keep her home safe. To see her intrigued, with a dwarf of all things, makes for an interesting picture.
"Is this the path that will lead to the pass?" I ask, finally allowing Tauriel to escape the subject.
"Yes," she answers eagerly. "I will walk the length with you so that you will know the way."
"Is it long?"
"Somewhat," she responds.
"Then wait a moment," I say as I step away from her and towards the nearest tree. I start plucking whatever fruits are near and hoard them in one hand. In my eagerness, I remove my mask, allowing it to rest round my neck as I pop a cherry in my mouth. I maneuver around the pit as I walk back to Tauriel. She watches me with an amused look.
"I didn't eat this morning and those maddening little berries have been teasing me since I got here," I explain. I keep walking forward, missing the sly look in her eyes as we continue walking. I spit the pit out and toss in another.
"Enjoying those are you?" she asks. I can only nod my head as I try to take in my surroundings and focus on not swallowing the pit. "Did you know that several of the men, Lord Elrond included, planted this grove when they first arrived in the Hidden Valley? It is meant to honor their loved ones by providing shade and harvest."
I shrug in her direction. All elves, even male ones, enjoy surrounding themselves with trees and nature in general. Because of this I'm sure that the men garden regularly. Then add in that plants are considered a show of affection, then it doesn't really surprise me…
"Now that you know the back story I will rephrase," she says mischievously with a sinister smirk on her face. "Are you enjoying the taste of the men's berries?"
I clearly chose the wrong moment to be greedy and attempt putting two in my mouth at the same time. As I try to inhale from the utter shock of the inappropriate joke I almost choke. However, I manage to spit them out, throwing the upper half of my body forward to cough violently. The other cherries I had been holding slip from my hand as I try to regain my composure. I wouldn't want them any more at this point, anyway.
She leans closer to my hunched form to add, "It would seem elvish fruit doesn't agree with you. Maybe you need something a little more…firm?" I can't respond as my coughing increases and I nearly fall to one knee from the force of them. It takes me longer to get over my bout, but when I finally overcome the sensation I look up to see her smiling from ear to ear. Apparently my reaction is exactly as she had hoped.
"For the sweet love of Eru, woman," I rasp, "Are you sure it's Thranduil I need to concern myself with? You very nearly succeeded in killed me yourself." My comment amuses her so greatly she unleashes a fit of giggles. I could feel a flush on my cheeks and a pout forming on my lips so I slide the mask into place before she can see and comment on it. Her particularly smug look draws out a snappy comment of my own, "You don't seem interested in elvish berries either. Maybe you need something a little…stronger?"
I always lose these games so I don't know why I bother. She out matches me in experience and practice at a level I could never hope to achieve. I suppose Tauriel both surprised me with her casual tone and I feel the need to exact revenge. Her unelvish characteristics are one of the reasons I love her, but it can shock me sometimes just how different she can be from other elves. Hadrien hadn't been "normal" either and I had also loved him for it. However, this particular trait of being so…playful works against me as she takes the teasing in stride.
"Perhaps…do you have any recommendations?" she asks slyly. My flush grows beneath the mask.
"No," is my brief and automatic response the question. Luckily she seems to have taken the hint that I no longer wish for the conversation to continue, but wears an arrogant smile on her face. Whenever we banter like that she always has the higher ground; her father's incessant teasing made for proper training. Sadly, in that perspective I am inferior; not from lack of trying, but simply that I didn't have 600 years with Hadrien in my life (I barley had four). While I'm not mad at her, I accept the silence and allow myself to stew for the duration of the trip. However, I come to realize that I am mad, but whether it is at the fact that I can no longer eat cherries for the rest of my life or if her suggestion for something firmer conjures an image of Thorin at the fountain behind my eyes once more. My face becomes ever hotter and I choke on my spit as I can't help thinking, 'Dwarves don't have berries – they have stones.'
Sweet Valar above…between my elven friend and the dwarves I travel with, I seem to have lost my dignity…
Bilbo follows Nori and Oin through the elven halls. They already made quick stops to the kitchens and livery to stock up on food and proper supply packs. Now they are heading to the gardens to collect whatever Oin needs to restock his stores. They didn't have to be nearly so sneaky now. A healer and a hobbit, hardly seem suspicious to be out in the gardens of Rivendell. While they wander the dwarven healer would stuff his pockets full of plants and those he couldn't collect, he gave to Bilbo. Meanwhile Nori leans against the tree, with appearance of whittling a piece of wood, but more in hopes of dispersing any elves that might wander by. Bilbo couldn't help noticing that Nori's piece of timber would never take shape; it is more Bofur and Bifur's profession than his.
Bilbo stares out over the valley, mindlessly. However, his mind is actually abuzz with activity. He knew that in order to complete what the Company originally set out to accomplish they would need to sneak past the elves. Bilbo understands the need, but part of him, likely the Baggins side, reminds him continually fixated on just how rude it is to sneak off like thieves in the night. It aggravates Bilbo, considering how kind their host has been, but he knows he has to follow through; he has given his word after all. The more he thought about it, the more he realizes they are rather like thieves. They are taking what they need and sneaking away without even a thank you. On the trip back, he decides, he would come back to thank them properly. Another part of him tells him that he doesn't wish to disappoint the others…or her. The ranger, as Bilbo has come to know her, is only looking out for the good of the company.
Bilbo discovered her secret early on in the trip. He had gone to collect some mushrooms for their supper when he had seen her off to the side of the camp, nibbling on some Shepherd's Purse from under her mask. Now usually the plant is consumed for its anti-hemorrhaging properties, but only when one is injured. The ranger had been unharmed by the ghouls, as far as Bilbo was aware. The first days setting out from Bree the ranger had little difficulty keeping up with Thorin's rigorous pace or hunting for game. Bilbo even remembers when she came out of the woods with a pair of wild turkeys slung over her shoulders.
This brought Bilbo to the only other logical explanation he could think of. Women in the Shire would eat Shepherd's Purse to put off their monthly bleeds, and by extension, pregnancy. He had heard from his aunt Mirabella that by preventing the bleeding there is no way for one to beget a child. So they would eat the flora for a few months time until they wished to bleed again and then let their bodies naturally purge the blood. They could only do this for a few months or else they ran the chance of illness and infection; shortly after the cycles would return to normal. His aunt had gone on into far more detail than he would care, but it gave Bilbo the knowledge to see what the ranger was doing.
Once coming to this conclusion Bilbo made sure to go further into the forest to relieve himself or he would bathe further upstream of the company in case she should return early and accidentally see him. She never did, but it seemed like the polite thing to do.
Bilbo accepts another pile of plants from Oin, absent mindedly as the healer starts scanning the garden again. The hobbit's thoughts then return to the girl in the mask. She has kept herself well hidden with what is likely years of experience. He looks between Oin and Nori and wonders if they know. His inner Baggins tells him to remain quiet and let her secret remain just that. But his Tookishness is beginning to take hold. While the dwarves are not exceptionally clever – surely they have read into the signs. It's not like she is trying very hard to hide it after all.
"Is there any Shepherd's Purse?" asks Bilbo conversationally.
"Aye," answers Oin as he rummages through what looks like radishes. "Only a little – it should be out of season at this point. Better be sure to get some of that..."
At first that seems to be the end of it, but Bilbo continues cautiously in case they don't already know, "Maybe we should grab some for Kalar." At this Oin looks up at the company burglar with a guarded expression. There is a small silence as the son of Groin appraises the hobbit before him. In order to break the odd tension Bilbo adds, "He seems to enjoy it is all."
Oin's eyes shift to Nori briefly before returning to the task at hand. Bilbo raises an eyebrow at the lack of response to his inquiring comment. Surely they knew…He subconsciously shifts his weight on his feet as he tries to find the words to try again. He stops the motion and attempts to collect Oin's attention once more.
"Leave it be, lad," comments Nori from his perch. Since he hadn't expected Nori to comment his voice causes the hobbit to jump in alarm. He turns around to look at the whittling dwarf with a slight frown on his face. However, Nori is no longer whittling, but watching the hobbit with cautious eyes. "There is no reason to go snooping in matters that don't concern you."
Bilbo feels it is in his right to be rude and balk at the ginger openly for that statement. While they hadn't "snooped" as Nori put it, the company of dwarves he has taken to travelling with certainly encroached on his home the night they offered him employment. They made everything his business when they decided to eat everything in Bilbo's stores and threatened his mother's dishes.
"Matters that don't concern me?" Bilbo asks incredulously. "Am I or am I not a member of the company of Thorin Oakenshield?" Neither Oin nor Nori comment because they already know the answer so he continues on, "As a member I feel inclined to make sure that all of our comrades are well looked after." Still they do not react to his words so he decides to follow the dwarvish fashion of being blunt. "You are aware of the fact that Kalar is a girl, right?"
Both of them look up at him sharply now. Nori, however, keeps sight of the objective, "Oin keep lookin' we don't have much time left." At first Bilbo thinks he is being ignored once more, but rather than return to his perch Nori draws Bilbo in close to talk in a hushed tone.
"Of course she's a girl, ya ninny," he says. "I knew it the minute she nearly took my hand off."
"What?" asks the Shireling. "How?"
"Her hands," he answers. "She's a ranger through and through – the dry skin, cracked cuticles, and calluses. But they are also small and the fingernails are too narrow. As a…proprietor of sorts, I know what it takes to have nimble fingers; it one of the first things I notice about a person. After all of the bar brawls and bedroom conquests I've made, I'm sure I could identify a woman's hands from a man's."
"Why didn't you speak up or say anything then?" asks Bilbo, confused. He hopes to ignore Nori's "bedroom conquests" altogether.
"Did ya see her reflexes?" ponders Nori a little louder. "She is really good at what she does. I have faith in my kin, but I'm aware of the fact that every extra set of hands count, especially well trained ones. I don't entirely trust her motives, but she looks after us well enough and another set of eyes to watch over my brother is always appreciated."
"Does Dori know?"
"Nah. If he did he would likely pitch a fit and tell Thorin that it wasn't "proper"."
"Then you think Thorin knows?"
"He's been suspicious, but it doesn't look like he's sure about it."
"…What about Ori?"
"Aye," answers Nori with hint of smugness in his voice. "Course he knows. He's been drawin' portraits of all of us ya know – to put in the history books or somethin' like that. When he was drawin' her he would keep stoppin' and tell me that a lot of her features reminded him another maiden; even with that damned mask in the way.
"Some years back when we were travelling from Ered Luin to the Blue Mountains to live in Thorin's Halls he had been commissioned by some ranger named Dirhael to draw a portrait of his daughter, Gilraen. Ori was young, but it was clear had a natural talent and the old man paid well for his service. Kinda liked the old bugger myself…"
"So he doesn't know for sure?" asks Bilbo. He didn't mean to change the subject, but Nori seemed to be going off on a tangent.
"He asked me 'bout it...told him the same thing I told you, but he was persistent. Told 'em what I knew," he says rather fondly.
"And you?" the halfling asks as he rounds on Oin. "How did you find out?"
"What was that?" he said now feigning deaf ears.
"Come off it, Oin," shrugs Nori. "He's known too, but hasn't told either."
"What makes you say that?" says Bilbo now suddenly aware of the fact that he is just as guilty as the rest of them if Thorin does find out.
"Most of us figured you out when you started bathing separately and refused to piss with the rest of us. I was worried you were gonna blow her cover, but luckily Thorin was busy watching her rather than you. I think the wizard told him it was normal for hobbits to seek privacy for such things."
"Gandalf knows?"
"He's a wizard. I just assume he knows everything. Anyway, we wondered if you were going to tell, but when you continued and didn't say anything we knew you weren't gonna squeal."
Bilbo's face began to redden from embarrassment; from the indignation of being caught. Despite this he doesn't regret his choice. She saved them from the trolls and stuck by their side with the wargs. She has her rough edges to be sure – Bilbo is still in shock over the punch she had delivered to that innocent elf. They didn't deserve that even if they were being rude.
"Gloin actually noticed it first," Oin confesses.
"Gloin?" asks Bilbo incredulously. He thought Oin had seen her eating the plant, but this is news to him – all of it is. "How?"
"He was backtracking one day looking for his coin purse – oaf didn't realize he had hid it in his satchel back in camp, but made it as far back as where we had bathed earlier that morn. According to him she was wearin' enough to cover the important bits, but she had been washing her clothes and cleaning her armor," he says as he begins to tear off some sprigs of rosemary.
Bilbo's face flushes once more as he imagines the sight Gloin must have stumbled upon. "Didn't believe him at first; didn't think any woman would be daft enough to join us on this venture. Then Bofur brought me some plants from the nearby woods and roadside; one of 'em was Shepherd's Purse and thought that, since he had seen the ranger eat it, it would be good for eating. Without even thinking about it I told him it's rather bland for most; normally eaten by bleeders and women. Once I said it out loud we both knew it could only mean one thing," the dwarf explains.
"Bofur knows?" Bilbo asks with a raising voice. Did the entire company, aside from Dori and Thorin, apparently know?
"Aye," supplies Nori, "And if he knows that means that Bombur and Bifur surely know. The three of them have been working extra hard to make sure she's treated like the rest of us so Thorin won't be let on."
"But he suspects?" asks Bilbo, which earns him a nod from Nori. "Surely if Balin and Dwalin figure it out though…"
"Dwalin might know, but if he does he's keepin' that knowledge to himself. In honesty though, I don't think he cares much about gender so long as the person isn't a threat to his kin. Besides, some of the dams they have travelled with are just as fierce as our ranger. The lass is the last of his worries at the moment." Nori pauses as his brow furrows in thought. "The odd thing is Balin…its strange really. Normally he's the most level-headed of all of us, but when it comes to the lass, she just spins his head around backwards. I thought he would have been the first to figure it, aside from myself of course. It's like he's blind to it all or somethin'."
"And the boys – Fili and Kili I mean…do they-"
A combination of Nori and Oin's laughter drown out the rest of the question. In his head he remarks that it's rather rude of them, but listens to what they have to say. Oin recovers first to reply as he excavates and cleans off some ginger roots.
"Those boys, if you'll forgive my tongue, are quite dense. I'm afraid she'll need to spell it out for them and even then she may need to prove it before those stone heads figure it out."
After a heartbeat of silence Bilbo voices the question that has been bothering him for a while now; especially now that he was aware that the dwarves knew of the ranger's…condition, "Why would you keep up the ruse instead of telling Thorin about this? He's your king, your kin, your friend."
"Aye, he is," says Nori. "And that's why we're doing this. We are trying to protect him both from the dangerous of the journey and from himself. I'm sure you thought something similar when you found out and didn't say anything."
Bilbo's silence is enough to keep Nori going, "The Misty Mountains are brimming with goblins and with orc packs following us, and we need all the good help we can get. Tell me – would you prefer we tell Thorin, and chance him leaving her behind to face these dangers without her because it's "proper" or would you have her at your side when we run into trouble?"
Bilbo is silent for another moment contemplating the options and choices he made since discovering the truth about Kalar. Nori's reason had been very much his own, as well as one other. Kalar, whether she knew it or not, is an excellent storyteller. The first night she had started her tale it had almost physically hurt him to leave and bring the boys their supper. He had never heard of her people from the books he had accumulated in the Shire. So throughout the trip he began learning about her people as much as he could from both Balin and Ori. While her tragedy saddened him, it also intrigues him endlessly. He hoped more than anything that her tale would end happily; she has suffered enough for one lifetime.
"So ya understand then?" asks Nori rather demandingly. "Since we don't want to injure Thorin's honor and we want to keep the others safe, no one tells Thorin. Alright?"
The hobbit nods his head in understanding as Oin collects as much Shepherd's Purse as he can. The pile is far too small, but it's everything the gardens have to offer.
"Let's get back to the others," says Oin as he looks up at the sky. "Nightfall will soon be upon us."
Since Tauriel was an OC in her own right I don't feel too bad if some think she was OOC, but please let me know your thoughts and ideas.
(My Horrible) Translations:
Avathos baudh an cenedan eithai o mellon, Thoronen = Do not fear judgement for seeking the comfort of a friend, my eagle.*
Ihen? = Who is this?
Thelenni cendh na mat, gwenur = I will see you at dinner, cousin.
*I about died when I saw the elvish word for eagle was Thoron. Its way too close to Thorin for me to not use it.
Next time: NOW Thorin tells and promises that were made to be broken…