Hey everyone. So first off Happy New Year to all! Now I'm gonna make this simple: Work kept me busy till September, my grandmother passed away in August from breast cancer, I had to move out of my apartment in September, and then in October and November I was suffering from massive anxiety about grad school. Basically the only time I've had to write is this month and even then I have been working with my student loan people to make a plan. So now I'm looking for work too…it's a little painful on my end and it's a little hard to talk about, but here is the next part so I hope you enjoy.
READER'S NOTE: Tahna can no longer sign Iglishmek. Instead it is a language called Nezkish. ro781727 pointed out that Iglishmek is more secretive than Khuzdul (because even some elves know Khuzdul, but not Iglishmek). Nezkish has a couple roots in Iglishmek and the elven sign language (if it has a name I don't know it or where to find it). The idea is that humans made up their own signs to fill in the blanks. So most words pertaining to the forest are elvish; and mountainous would be dwarvish words. The rest of the day to day words in town were made up by humans. However, dwarves learn it as well as a secondary form of communication so they can avoid using Khuzdul.
Anyway! Thank you to everyone who favorited and followed! And a special thank you so much for your reviews. Every kind word is appreciated – and constructive criticism is welcome.
angel897, AmythestSiri, Lady Arien of Rohan, Guest – Thank you for the kind words and I hope you like this part!
Pineapple3000 – I know we had agreed on letting you have the edit on this one, but it's been so long and I just want this out here. If you want I can still email it and then update it, but I want people to know I'm not dead.
inperfection – I hope you will like Tahna's reaction to Azog it's meant to be a major flaw in her character. Make sure you keep me in the know, ok?
dearreader – I think the movie does have major flaws. The Legolas thing is another good example. I could just hear Mario Smash Bros music in the background in my mind. But it being the final movie of the series I will still love it regardless.
Gioiosa (your name wouldn't go with the dot) – Good point with the trolls. I was just waiting for them to start turning into stone while they were fighting amongst themselves. I was thinking: 'Now…and now…what is going on?!' And thank you, I'm glad you like the story.
CrystalArmyWolf23 – I'm surprised to see so many people don't like the worms either. And thank you so much, I'm glad you like it! I feel like the OOCness stems from Jackson when he made Tauriel. The fact that she commented on Kili's flirt in the dungeon didn't seem like elf behavior at all. But if there can be strange hobbits, dwarves, and wizards…there can totally be weird elves.
Salem '72 – Oh wow! You're so sweet; thank you! I hope that they are all the feels!
Melody-Ravenwood – I think we spoke before. But just in case, thank you again so much for your input. I had hoped that those scenes were realistic while still being funny.
ro781727 – I finally did it!
I've decided to do a story recommendations corner for my lovely friends here on FF. Since you're here for Thorin/OC I will only recommend those unless otherwise requested. I have a few good Fili, Kili, and Dwalin ones on file. I really wish there were more Bilbo/OC, but meh…I will do two incomplete so you can follow along with the journey. And one complete for those who are impatient = (Me…Most days…)
kkolmakov: Me Without You. *Complete*
Lillianpost: The Reluctant Bridegroom. *Incomplete: Updated: 10/1/16
Through the Mirror Darkly: Made of Stone. *Incomplete: Updated: 11/8/16
Dwalin takes the lead with Nori right behind him. Somewhere along the way they pick up a large post and using Dwalin's strength, knock several goblins out of our path. Because Bofur has moved me to the middle there is little action for me to deal with, but from time to time a goblin would leap into the middle of us. Between Dori, Gloin, and Bofur they are easy to dispatch. Despite that I want to help my friends, I also find myself thankful to them for taking the brunt of the attack because of the exhaustion settling into my body.
At one point we have to stop entirely because there are too many goblins blocking our path. In order to keep what little ground we have on the main bridge we kept close to one another, but have to separate to keep from hurting each other. Dwarf weapons are large and bulky; so while the dwarves may work well with each other to avoid being hit. There are those of us amongst the company that has little practice maneuvering with dwarrow during battle.
I parry, thrust, and block every blow that comes my way, but there is one point where my gut clenches fiercely. I can sense a goblin coming up from behind me, but I fail to turn in time. Thankfully, Thorin delivers a killing blow to the imp and then turns to strike down an archer that had been aiming for Balin's back. He takes a moment to turn back to me and is trying to look me over for injuries.
He makes eye contact with me, "Are you injured?"
"No," I respond. I force the pain down and notice that there is an opening in the goblin ranks ahead. I start running and as I pass the dwarf lord I grab his arm. He quickly shakes me off – once he realizes what I'm doing. I call out to the others, "Keep moving."
We quickly fall back into our group and keep moving forward. I see something moving out of my peripheral vision when I look up along the other side of the crevice. Lining up along one of the higher bridges are goblins with ropes. They were going to jump over and separate us from one another. Also looking up I notice that the poorly made bridge above us is only connected to the wall with ropes. If we could cut them, the wood should be enough to block the imminent attack from across the gap.
"Cut the ropes!" I call to the others.
I strike one first as an example and the company jumps to it. Thorin takes the last rope and it works in both halting the attack from above as well as blocking the army behind us. It won't keep them away for long, but hopefully just enough.
I see Gandalf stop suddenly at the head of our train for some unknown reason. We begin to crowd up on one edge of the bridge forcing those of us at the back of the line to turn back and fight off goblins. I only manage a single block when Kili cuts the rope connecting the bridge to the cavern wall. I almost lost my balance, but Bofur grabs the back of my belt and drags me to the other side of the now swinging, wooden structure. When we reach the full lilt of the bridge Bofur and Oin pull me off and leap to the other side of the gap with them. Balin and Ori also make the jump and quickly jump with us. We stand up quickly to see the bridge swing back, picking up a few new goblin passengers with it.
It's a good thing I got off when I did because that single swing is enough to make me retch. All the effort I had put into not vomiting had been done away with one large swing. Some of it sticks to my hair and I wipe what remains around my mouth on my sleeve. Most of it appears to be water, but I hardly have time to investigate. Oin grabs me the moment I'm done to make room for the others that remain on the oscillating bridge. Everyone manages to escape the death trap after the second swing allowing Fili to cut the ropes and the bridge goes tumbling down the gulch taking its ghoulish occupants with it. Then we are off and running again with Fili and Gandalf in the lead.
The wizard at one point looks up and smacks the stone with his staff. This causes a boulder to free itself from the stone wall. It lands in front of our troop, rolling ahead of us and clearing the way of our goblin obstructs. However, that only works for a certain distance. The boulder falls off one bridge and as we pass over another smaller bridge only to find a larger accumulation of goblins. These imps have had time to make it to this point and head us off. We are prepared to fight off the hoard before us, but then the Great Goblin appears from the depths below us. I turn my back to face the enemy that had managed to follow us through the damage we made in the tunnels. Beside me are Bifur, Balin, and Thorin.
"You thought that you could escape me?" he says swiping his large staff at Gandalf. "What are you going to do now, wizard?"
I cannot see much as I am holding off the advance of the goblins behind us. I hear the Great Goblin cry out once brief pain and then again much more agonizingly. The thing is snarling at Gandalf before a loud thump is heard. Glancing over my shoulder I see the corpse has collapsed onto the bridge in a heap. However, the bridge cannot hold the weight and the segment holding it up breaks. Then we began to fall… There is a moment in which my body feels weightless and it is threatening to make me sick again. So I quickly push Locelnehtar through the wood in hopes of finding something sturdy to hold onto. The ends of the bridges snap, shatter, and tear as it brushes down along the walls of the cavern. One of the dwarves grabs a hold of me in the chaos, but I can't determine who.
When we reach the bottom, the rest of the structure collapses and my sword is knocked loose. There is enough room under the rubble for my legs, my sword, and the dwarf beside me. Looking around, I am amazed to find that we made it to the bottom of the cavernous ravine relatively unscathed. We are locked in the wreckage, but unharmed. Gandalf manages to pull himself out within seconds. I do the same, dragging out Ori who had strapped himself to my side earlier. He gives me a sheepish grin, but I give him an understanding nod.
"Well that coulda been much worse," says Bofur. While the words were meant to encourage optimism, it is not a second later that the dead Goblin King falls onto the entrapped dwarves. The loud sound causes me to jump in surprise. I thought that the large mass would have fallen before us and cushioned the fall of the debris, not the other way around. The dwarves release a chorus of grunts and groans and once the dust settles a second time I can't help rolling my eyes. Of course Bofur had to say something.
"You've got ta be jokin'," growls Dwalin. Approaching the grouchy dwarf, I immediately stick my arm out to try and pull him out from under the wooden heap. With a few hard tugs he is finally freed and together we work to release Fili and Kili.
Once Kili makes it out of the bridge debris he cries out, "Gandalf!"
I'm drawn away from working Nori's foot past a large beam. Looking back further into the cavern I can make out a massive hoard of goblins in the darkness coming right for us. They flow as thick as water down the stone floor of the cave. There are more than I could have ever imagined there to be within these tunnels. I hurry in my endeavor to free Nori and manage with a little help from Bofur.
"There's too many. We can't fight them," says Dwalin. Despite his frustrated calm I can feel the panic becoming palpable amongst my friends. They look around feeling lost and unsure of what to do. They knew strategically that they can't beat these odds. The greatest fear is on Thorin and Dori's faces and for good reason; they have the most to lose with their family members on the quest being the youngest. I take one look between the army of goblins and my friends struggling harder to get out of the bridge wreckage. As I remember the screaming women and children in the tunnels below Imelkane, I can feel my own hysteria rising. I don't want to die down here either…
It's dangerous to use my magic in close quarters and it requires absolute focus. I couldn't be worrying about my friends or else I most assuredly lose my concentration. But there is no choice; I have to do it now! If I didn't my friends would die underneath this mountain at the hands of these vile monsters – I have to save them.
"All of you!" I call for their attention. They look up at me with frightened and confused expressions. "Make for those rocks – there must be a way out! I can feel a breeze."
"She's right," says Gandalf. "Only daylight can save us now."
They quickly make their way to the aforementioned rocks, but I turn away from them to face the throng of goblins alone. Unfortunately, Kili sees me and calls out, "Wait! Where are you going?"
I reach behind myself to let my hand encircle the iron hilt at my back. The metal is already warm, the magic is already preparing for use. It used to scare me how these inanimate objects could somehow read my thoughts and just know I would use them. Now it barely even crosses my mind anymore. The one thing I do notice more than anything is that it manages to act as an anesthesia for the pains and exhaustion in my body. I feel loose and any lingering nausea has subsided for the moment. "Don't worry. I've got this," I say.
"You cannot stop them," rumbles Thorin. He tries to grab my hand and drag me away with the rest of the company. I draw my hand away and look him in the eye. "Do not be rash! We must flee!"
He seems desperate as he pleads with me, but he doesn't know that I can help save us. The only one in danger will be me. I can't give the goblins an opportunity to chase us. Even if it is sun up outside, there is no way we could possibly outrun them all by the time nightfall hit. These mountains have too many tunnels. It's likely that they would be able to hunt us down and give us no chance to rest. If I can damage them badly enough they shouldn't be able to follow…at the very least it will give us a head start.
"I can't," I say before starting to run. My boots hit the stone beneath my feet like a heartbeat. I can hear the company's cries behind me, but after a few moments I block them out. As I am running I curl my hand tighter around the metal hilt; with would-be each stab of pain the magic transformed it into a searing heat in my veins. I allow it to fester within me, fueling the fire building in my mind. There is a pounding in my ears like thunder. Then from underneath that rumble comes a voice, growing louder with each word. A voice that I hate…
They have to pay! All of them!
Then amongst the goblins I can see her standing there glaring down at me. The goblins seem to flow around her, never touching her, focusing only on us. Not that anyone else can see her; she is an illusion in my mind's eye that I created to focus my magic. When I had first started training with Morinehtar the form that appeared to help me with my concentration had been figureless. With enough training, my hatred gave her shape and a voice. As I get closer she becomes more enraged, her eyes alight and she snarls viciously like a trapped animal.
These are the beasts that destroyed your home! They are no different from him! From Azog! He raped your mother! Forced her to have his children!
Images of that day and those nights filled my mind. My friends slaughtered within their own home by a man we had all trusted with our lives. The fire that had torn through the city left smoldering ashes in its wake. The cold stone walls of Gundabad encircled my father and I, keeping us surrounded by death. Unable to tell whether the noises we heard at night were the wind or some poor creature being torn apart by the beasts that roamed the halls. I could feel that moment in the barn with Gaellyn with the flames licking at my skin, now a tool to hold the heat in my heart. I remember the terror and hate as I had waited in the rafters for my mother to give birth, only to discover that the monsters inside of her would rip their way out. Gijak and Bolg had entered this world by killing my mother – I let my hatred for them and their bastard father fuel my rage as I continued my approach. I can feel my throat closing and my teeth clench.
You could have saved her! You could have stopped it! She suffered and IT IS ALL YOUR FAULT! Gliwen died because you weren't strong enough to fight off the dark magic in the forest! You are a monster too. Hadrien died because of you! IT IS ALL YOUR FAULT! Those dwarves of yours are going die! AND THAT WILL BE YOUR FAULT!
The goblins are now almost upon me, but I don't see them, not truly. I look up at the little girl who is screaming at me with all the fury I feel within me. Her golden eyes have tears streaming down her face, her clothes in tatters and covered in dried blood. When I look at her I can't feel anything, but hate and grief. It was her fault! I should kill her! It was as much her fault as Azog's. She needed to pay for what she did to my mother; letting her suffer those months of torture and agony when she just wanted to die. She should have given it to her, but she let her foolish hope get in the way! She wasn't strong enough, but I am…
I raise the hilt above my head, the flaming blade taking form. I don't notice how the goblins falter in their attack upon my summoning my magic blade. That's because it isn't the goblins I mean to hit, but the girl in their ranks. She should have given up while she was ahead; she should have stayed behind when her uncle told her.
Kill them! Kill ME!
And with her words I sent the world up in flames. While still angry I no longer felt pain, the heat of the flames no more than an uncomfortable heat. The flames pour forward like an ocean wave; it flows over and through the goblins encasing them in a bright light. They squirm and scream as it consumes them like a vortex of fire, like dragon fire. I can smell the burning flesh at some point, but it doesn't register to me. I just need to know if I got her…
For a moment I pull the flames away with nothing more than a shift of the sword in my hand. The blade is still flickering up from the hilt, casting an eerie light along the stones around me. It provides me with enough light to look around. There are charred bodies lining the ground are almost unrecognizable. Swords and armor are the only remainders of the front lines of the goblin hoard. Wisps of steam are rising from the blackened and scorched corpses, but I look back up to where she had been.
Even after my attack she still stands there completely untouched by my attack. The goblins now fleeing in the opposite direction, but she remains unmoved. Some of the goblins are still on fire from my original attack and as they pass her the light passes over face. Her eyes are a blaze and she is still screaming at me.
You're letting them get away! How could you?! After what they did?! After what you let them do?! Do you know what they will do to your precious dwarves?!
I only have myself to blame for their involvement. The more I came to care about someone the easier it would be to play to my emotions; especially my fear for their death and my hate for those who would bring them such harm. My flaming sword had once used Hadrien as a motivator and now it is the dwarves I travel with. Knowing this doesn't stop the spike digging into my heart at her words. I run forward at her, driving my flaming sword through her heart. As it does, I unleash another wave of fire in hopes of rendering her body into ashes. As the orange light grows brighter, it blinds me to the rest of the world.
Thorin thought that after this eve there was nothing else Tahna could do to surprise him; there has never been a greater misconception in this world. When she took off faster than he thought her capable of in her condition, his heart nearly burst.
"Lass!" yells Dwalin. His cry is ignored as she speeds ever closer to the goblin hoard. Both Fili and Kili try to go after her, but Gandalf stops them from advancing with his staff.
"We must leave her. Only daylight can save us now," says the wizard. Thorin is torn between collecting the ranger who had become his charge and protecting his kin. He can feel his fists clenching and unclenching with painful indecisiveness.
"We can't leave 'er here," says Bofur determinedly.
Kili takes Bofur's words to heart as the goblins close in on Tahna. He breaks off from the group and narrowly dodges Gandalf's staff. He yells to her:
"NAMAD!"
His cry goes unheard as the hilt she holds above her head suddenly grew a white hot blade of flames. The hilt in her hand began to glow from the heat of the flames and the rubies inset in the metal began to move like they are eyes. Then with a small downward stroke, a large burst of flames came from the ranger. They stretch so far that for a moment all the goblins are hidden behind the bright light. The cavern is now filled with enough light that Thorin can clearly see the faces of his company.
Despite the apparent danger that came from lingering, the dwarves cannot tear themselves from the glowing spectacle. The flames crash and climb the nearby stone walls like waves from the ocean. This effectively heats the immense space beneath the rocky terrain, reminding the dwarf lord of the heat of his forge.
Then it dissipates, cutting away to reveal the burning bodies of goblins. Some scream as they burn alive. Those untouched try to turn and run back the way they came. Thorin could see Tahna. She holds the sword in her hand as one would any other blade. All around her are small flames licking at her legs; they are like snakes dancing around her, looking for the right time to strike. However, she doesn't seem to notice or care as she examines the carnage she has left in her wake. The hot air causes her tunic and hair to flutter slightly in the drafts; this is the only movement visible aside from the fleeing goblins.
With the vermin finally on the run he expects Tahna to turn around and return to the company. A moment of hope wells within him only to be snuffed out with her next action. She follows the cowering goblins with no sign of stopping and with a swift thrust of her sword she disappears into the flame once more. At this Thorin's heart stops momentarily; confused and hurt by her absolution of the company. However, in his heart he can feel the wrongness of this, that there is something foul in the air. With renewed determination he prepares to follow her. Thorin grabs his eldest nephew and forcing him to look him in the eye.
"Get the others out of here now. Gandalf, lead them. Dwalin, with me," orders Thorin. Some of the company look like they want to protest, but Gandalf quickly begins pushing them along to their freedom. Thorin brushes past them as he begins to follow his ranger back into the cave with Dwalin falling into line behind him. Their loud footfalls are reassuring as they trample through the remains of the unfortunate goblins at the front lines. The crunching noise is sickening and the burnt flesh reminds Thorin of the day the dragon appeared. The ground had been coated in dead men and dwarves alike with ashes everywhere. The Great Goblin had called her a scourge, it now suddenly seems appropriate.
When they reach her, she has just crested the large stone which the goblins had been streaming down before her attack. She has her sword pointed out directly in front of her, but the one fiery blade becomes three and like arrows they shoot out from the hilt. They hit three major tunnels, filled with shrieking goblins, and explode into a bright orange light.
For a frightening moment Thorin recalls the nightmare he had in Rivendell. Of the flames from Tahna's mouth that had decimated him. It is a strange notion to think she is the cause of all this horror. The fact that these are dark creatures she is slaying to protect his kin makes it a little less terrifying. The power she has hidden until this point both terrifies and assures Thorin on different levels, but this isn't the moment to analyze such things.
Without much forethought Thorin jumps through the small wall of flames that still surround her and takes her arm. At first Thorin nearly pulls away because of the heat radiating from her skin. Her body feels like it is trying to burn him through the small amount of contact he holds with her, but he holds fast. He wonders how she can even stand this smoldering heat. How does it not hurt her?
When she turns Thorin nearly loses his grip once more out of surprise. Tahna's eyes have changed once more; where he had once seen warmth has suddenly become a tumultuous inferno. Her eyes are wide and bright, but they are so light that they are almost sickly. It's like she can see everything, but at the same time there is a slight glaze to her eyes like she isn't really here. It appears as though it has consumed her entirely. Thorin has the unsettling feeling of facing down madness once more. While Thorin is aware that she is not his grandfather, hers is similar in that furious rage that awakened when his paranoia mounted. Seeing it on his ranger's face frightens him beyond reason. This is the second person under his care to be devoured by their madness.
Tahna's face flashes before his mind's eye; back when she still wore her mask often and all he had to read were her eyes. Her face had been lighted by the campfire as she taught her nephews to play cards. At one point Kili had asked him if he had wanted to play and she had looked up at him. It was one of those times he had been studying her and he remembers the moment well. Her eyes had become warm and playful in the presence of his nephews; so when she looked up at him the look carried over. Thorin holds on to that image of her in his head. He could not lose her to this. He has to save her! He may have failed his grandfather, but he would not fail her!
His hand tightened on her arm, despite how it burns his hand. She tenses, not recognizing him, and sensing him as though he is a threat. The flames around her flare out, but regardless of his fear of those flames he holds his ground. He would not fail her.
"Tahna!" he says. Tahna stares at him now, looking him over as if trying to figure out how he knew her. She looks him up and down before making her way back to his eyes; she looks somewhat desperate to find something familiar about him. His grandfather had looked at him like that in decades past when Thorin had tried to pull him from the treasury. Thinking this a positive sign he continues calling to her, "The others are safe – we need to go now!"
For a moment her eyes clear as she focuses harder on him. Her flames dissipate, realizing she's not in danger from him. Thorin breathes a little easier now that the flames are subsiding and that Tahna is beginning to regain herself. The muscles in her arm were even starting to relax under his grip. There is a lingering pain in his chest at having to face this sickness once more in the face of someone he cares for. Then her eyes shift from him, as they had in Rivendell, but dread fills him now; because in that instant her eyes return to her distant state. The arm he is holding draws him closer to her and she raises her sword at something behind him. The heat of the flames rise again so quickly he let out a shout.
"Thorin!" cries Dwalin. Thorin can't see him beyond the wall of flame, but he knows his cries are heard. He clings closer to the ranger trying to keep himself from catching on fire. That's when he hears her whimper.
"Thorin?"
He looks up at her to see her eyes wide. As she looks at him in absolute horror, but entirely clear of the madness that afflicted her. The flames die suddenly, but in the darkness there is a faint light from the metal hilt. The heat from the flames has caused the metal to glow orange. It cools quickly, but it is as if she didn't realize it; if anything she grips it harder until she began to shake.
"I'm sorry," she says imploringly.
It is Dwalin that cuts through the haze. Not necessarily with Thorin's name alone, but the fear he holds in his voice; Dwalin doesn't get scared like that. I know Thorin is near, I recognized him before. The way Dwalin has cried out, however, tells me that he is scared for his king. He is scared of me; he is scared I would hurt Thorin. The thought is sobering enough that the inner voice of my sword fads out and with it, the flames. With her form and spiteful voice withdrawn there is a hollowness left in the air.
The heat is gone and I shiver violently in the damp coolness of the goblin tunnels. I grip the hilt trying to cling at the vestiges of heat. My eyes now have to readjust to darkness of the cave. I can feel Thorin's grip on my arm still and so I try my best to find his face in the shadows. When my attempt is rendered useless all I can do is whisper.
"I'm sorry."
With those words there is only a split second before Thorin begins pulling me away tenderly. I reattach the hilt to my belt, aware that I will not use it for a while yet. However, in the back of my head there is an hourglass which has turned and I only have so long before the magic I used catches up with me. The fatigue and nausea which had been repressed by the sword now return with a vengeance. For a moment I stumble forward with Thorin, thinking I am going to vomit again, but Dwalin steadies me. Once he thinks he can let go he grips his weapon and runs alongside us.
No goblins come out of their hiding spaces. No arrows fly through the air. The only sound is of our boots hitting the stone beneath us. We quickly pass the Great Goblin's corpse and resume the path the others had taken. We enter the tunnel that would lead to our escape with no other deterrents. The putrid smell which permeated the caves became less and less overbearing as we made our way out. We quicken our pace with the appearance of sunlight at the end of the tunnel. Along our way I could have sworn I heard a shift amongst the rocks; fearing the worst I force Thorin out of the tunnel before me in a blind panic. I intend the same for Dwalin, in case we are under attack, but the rock-brain forces me out instead.
"Ladies first," he says as he pushes me onto Thorin. The dwarf lord rights me before I can stumble further. It is a relief as I take my first real breathes of fresh air. Thorin reaffirms his grip on me as we run. I have half a mind to shake him off of me and keep my distance, but another shooting pain across my abdomen prevents me.
Dwalin falls slightly behind us as to watch our backs, but it is unnecessary. No goblin is following us; no enemy awaits us. I have completed my endeavor to buy us time, but the cost is taking its toll on me. The sun is still whole in the sky, but is steadily following its descending path. Had we really been there for almost a whole day? Looking up suddenly, my world starts to blur and I can feel the sweat collect on my brow. I am still unsteady and pray to any who would listen to make this stop soon; in this instance my prayers are answered.
"Thorin!"
Balin's voice rings clear through the air. The others had stopped to catch their breath or were perhaps waiting for us. Any that had been sitting now stand to assist their king. When we stop we are desperately trying to catch our breath. My legs begin to shake from the sheer exhaustion my body feels. Before anything can be said Fili and Kili are by my side – assisting me into a sitting position. My disoriented self accepts their help without complaint – seeing as I can't do it without them. Damn it all!
Oin kneels beside me as he digs through what small satchels he has left. It's then I notice how little gear we now carry. Most of it must have been lost in the tunnels. This thought dampers my spirits; there are still so many more miles of mountains to go. I allow myself to worry about our rations while the company chatters around me.
"Her concussion is worse now. And she has lost quite a bit of blood," says Oin. As he gently probes the open wound at my neck. "It doesn't look infected though."
"Where's Bilbo?" asks Gandalf. "Where is our hobbit?" His voice grew more hysterical with each word. I turn my head trying to locate him, but I'm met with pain from the whip wound on my neck and became overwhelmed with dizziness.
"Don't move, lass," says Oin gently.
"Curse the halfling," growls Dwalin. "Now he's lost. I thought he was with Dori."
"Don't blame me," cries Dori indignantly.
"When did you last see him?" asks Gandalf earnestly.
"I think I saw him slip away just before they collared us," pipes in Nori.
"What happened exactly?" demands Gandalf. "Tell me!"
"I'll tell you what happened," grumbles Thorin. "Master Baggins saw his chance and took it. He's thought of nothing, but his soft bed and warm hearth since he first stepped out his front door."
"I don't believe that," I groan in protest. "He wouldn't do that to us." I start pushing against the ground in an attempt to get up. Oin tries to push me back down, but I push him back. My legs are shaky, but I manage to stand. "He misses home, just like all of you, but he wouldn't abandon us. He's probably still trapped in the tunnels. I need to go back and find him."
I try to start back up the hill, but I only make it a couple steps before Thorin stops me. His grip on my arms acts as both a blockade and momentary stabilizer. "You can hardly stand and you are wounded. I forbid you from going," he says.
"I will not leave him at their mercy," I growl. "They are monsters. They will tear him apart!" The wisps of magic lingering over me are bringing out hints of my anger, but I do not have the strength nor care to try and rein it in. Imagining Bilbo at the hands of creatures, much like the ones that had taken her mother, lit a familiar heat in her belly. My fists clench, bunching Thorin's tunic at his upper arms.
Those bright eyes freeze for a moment in what appears to be fear, but then he returns my glare, "If he remained then he is likely dead already. Either way we will not be seeing out hobbit again he is long gone. There is nothing to be done."
I don't want to believe that statement so I glare futilely at Thorin as if I could stare him into submission. He returns it with just as much force and within seconds I accept defeat. My legs shake and before I can try to make it past Thorin again I collapse into his arms. I try to shrug him off of me – angry that he would give up on Bilbo so quickly. Then a dark thought consumes my mind.
Bilbo wouldn't have just left us; I know that. Thorin had said some harsh words to Bilbo before and it had been the weight to break the horse's back, but surely not without saying goodbye. There is also the fact that Nori had seen him, so he had been with us in the tunnels. But where is he?...Maybe I killed him? Thorin and Dwalin had gotten close enough to me amidst the flames. He would have certainly tried to help me if I seemed to be in some sort of danger. Without my complete awareness of the world around me, could I have accidentally consumed him in the fire of my blade? Did another innocent suffer because of me? What had I done? I can feel the tears filling my eyes.
Thorin tries to help me back up, but I instead find it within me to force him back; angry at him for his words. With nothing to hold me up my hands land onto the ground beneath. I can feel the crunch of the dry pine needles on my palms. No one says anything more. I can feel Thorin's eyes on me, but I don't want to accept he may be right. So I allow my head to hang, momentarily distracted with grief.
I only look back up when I feel something touch my arm. I look up to see Bilbo looking back at me. A relief wells within me at his appearance and I cannot help a tear or two being shed.
"Now none of that. I'm fine and I'm not going anywhere," he says with a smile. I collect my hobbit friend into my arms enthusiastically. He is safe; neither goblins nor I had hurt him. Bilbo's small arms did their best to encircle my large form lying awkwardly along my back. The brushing of the hobbit's brown curls against my cheek made my smile grow. I silently thank Yavanna for the hardiness she has bestowed upon the youngest of her children.
From somewhere behind us I can hear Gandalf, "Bilbo Baggins, I've never been so glad to see someone in my life." His relief is palpable and sympathized with by most of the company. I release the hobbit slowly. As I draw away, his hands come up to wipe the tears from my cheeks. He returns a bright smile to me reassuringly.
"Bilbo! We had given you up," states Kili. The large grin on his face relays the joy he felt of their friend's return.
"How did you get past the goblins?" asks Fili with a confused look on his face.
"How indeed…" adds Dwalin in an awed surprise of the small creature.
Bilbo grasps for the words; his mouth opening and closing inarticulately. However, obvious unease from the probing questions causes me to come to the hobbit's aid.
"What does it matter? He's back," I say. I feel myself slipping to a sitting position once more. Bilbo moves aside when Oin comes to aid me and this time I allow it.
"It matters," says Thorin gruffly. "I want to know: Why did you come back?"
Bilbo takes a moment before looking Thorin directly in the eye. "I know you doubt me – I know you always have. And you're right; I often think of Bag End. I miss my books and my armchair, and my garden." Bilbo pauses momentarily to let it sink in that they have been right in that regard, but also to find the words he seeks. "See that's where I belong – that's home. And that's why I came back. Because you don't have one; a home. It was taken from you, but I will help you take it back if I can."
His kind words touch me deeply, I can only fathom what the company might be thinking. After so many years at the mercy of men and elves who hardly ever cared for them before, only to find the compassionate heart of a hobbit. It becomes clear why Gandalf had brought this hobbit along; a kind heart is needed on this journey, not just willing ones. I don't have to look around to know that dwarves are either silently touched or near tears. Thorin has good enough sense to look slightly guilty for his earlier accusations.
However, Bilbo must not have considered his speech worth much as he is swift to change the subject. "Now then – let's take a look at you," he says as he grips my shoulder lightly. "What's wrong?"
Oin grunts lightly as he pretends as though he wasn't touched by Bilbo's speech. "As I was sayin' she's got a nasty concussion. She's also lost a lot of blood from the head and neck wound. The bruises on her face look worse than they actually are," says the healer as he checks my arms. I wince a little when he grabs my sword arm. Naturally he rolls my tunic sleeve up to find the wound, only to find none.
"How bad is the pain, lass? Does it feel like its bone or muscles?" he asks.
"The pain is mild for now, but it's nothing you can fix," I say. When I receive an angry look I explain further. "The sword I used has destructive properties – specifically self-destructive. I need to find some running water soon to negate the effects."
"What'll happen if we don't find any?" asks Gloin nervously.
"My body will start burning itself from the inside out, starting with my arm. Dragon fire will be a kindness in comparison," I groan as I get to my feet, Oin works to steady me. "We need to move; not only for the water, but there will be goblins on our tail eventually."
Fili and Kili take up positions on either side of me to help me up. "You need to rest, namad," says Fili. He has no idea how much I want to rest, but it simply isn't an option.
"No! We can't afford to stay here any longer," I say. "Don't worry, Fili. I'm more tired than anything. My legs are fine – I can walk."
"She's right," says Dwalin. "We need to keep movin'. We can stop when we find a more defensible position."
"Right," answers Oin. "Dwalin and Dori, you help the lass down the hillside. Bilbo and Bofur, you-"
A loud howl draws our attention away from the discussion at hand. A chill makes its way down my spine. How could they have found us so quickly? We have only just gotten out from under the mountain.
"Out of the frying pan…" whispers Thorin.
"And into the fire," finishes Gandalf. "Run! RUN!"
Before I can make an attempt to run I am picked up by Dwalin. He takes off with me in his arms and the weightless feeling make me slightly nauseous. I wrap my arms around his shoulders to stabilize my weight and ease his burden. The burning in my arm spikes during my initial grip. Somewhere behind us I can hear Oin shout:
"Mind her head!"
"Ya mind ya own business," shouts back Dwalin. His grip tightens slightly after a particularly hard jump from a rock. "Don't get too comfortable," he says. "Once you're all healed up I expect you to start pullin' your weight again. You hear me?"
"I hear you, Dwalin," I say with a small smile, despite the situation. It's nice to know that even the rather dour Dwalin thought we could make it out of this. "Thank you."
Next time: Azog…
Thank you everyone once more for all your love and support. I'm not going to make promises I can't keep, but know that I am still writing this story.