Chapter Twelve

One evening about a month into their traveling, they found themselves on the edge of a cliff. By this point she felt that she was getting fairly used to the foolishness of what she was starting to think of her Dwarves. Yet there were somethings that she didn't think she'd ever get used to. One thing was dwarves love for heights. Why they couldn't have gone a little further and been closer to the ground she just couldn't understand. Not that she voiced her complaints, instead she just huddled near the fire once the camp chores were completed and tried to pretend that the edge of the cliff wasn't as close behind her as it truly was.

It was funny though at times, it seemed that many of them forgot that she was a female by this point, as she tried not to make a point of it. Gandalf had confided in her early on that she would most likely be called in the masculine form by the dwarves throughout the journey as it was what they did when Dams traveled. As such, many of them treated her as such. So when they started using the washroom over the side of the cliff instead of moving out of line of site, it was everything she could do not to squawk in disgust.

It didn't continue for long, and it made her adore Bifur even more, when the gruff dwarf started telling the others off. Not that she understood what he was saying, but you could tell from the chastised looks of the ones who'd done it, that they remembered who was in the group with them. She had a feeling that they'd be laughing about it later, but for now, she was just glad that they'd stopped.

Now, most of her dwarves where either sleeping, talking in small family groups, or in Oakenshield's case, brooding over on the edge of the camp. She was feeling a might bit lonely herself, knowing that if she only opened her mouth, she could join in on those family groups, but she still couldn't. Instead, she took one of the apples she'd picked as they passed under a grouping of apple trees, and wandered over to Myrtle, her very docile pony.

After quickly checking that no one was pointedly watching her, she offered her snack, "Hello girl. That's a good girl. It's our little secret, Myrtle; you must tell no one. sh, sh" When she heard a scream shrill through the night. She knew that sound, it had been part of her nightmares since she was a faunt, yet she couldn't help the words that fell out of her mouth, "What was that?" She was already reaching for her daggers.

Kili, who'd been close enough to hear, but young enough not realize the level of fear in her voice, "Orcs."

And where one brother was, the other was sure to follow and join in, "Throat-cutters. There'll be dozens of them out there. The lowlands are crawling with them."

"They strike in the wee small hours, when everyone's asleep. Quick and quiet; no screams, just lots of blood."

She couldn't help but look away from the boys in fright, out towards the edge of the cliff where the world disappeared into the black. Only to quickly turn and glare at the two when they burst into laughter.

Oakenshield stood straight up from where he'd been dozing, glaring at the three of them, "You think that's funny? You think a night raid by orcs is a joke?" She tried to slink back a bit, leaning against Myrtle, she for one didn't find it funny at all.

"We didn't mean anything by it." Oh Kili, there was the child she saw in him.

"No, you didn't. You know nothing of the world." Oakenshield walked towards the edge of the cliff and looked out over the lands below them. She felt an urge to stand up for the boys, but she was a might bit angry at them herself.

Then she noticed Balin walking up to Fili and Kili. For a moment she thought he was going to further reprehend the boys, but instead he broke into the history of the Battle of Azanulbizar. Her heart opened a bit to the leader of their group, hearing the tale from someone who'd actually seen the battle. She could see his shoulders tensing as Balin continued, as if he was trying to block out the memories that were being dragged up. Something she could sympathize with, as she was still fighting her own. Everyone of the company seemed to be watching him as well, as they silently stood, as if offering support to their king.

When Thorin turned back to them, she felt a bit more open to him and his moods, but that didn't mean she'd forgiven him just yet for his treatment of her. "And this Azog, what happened to him?" Then tried to slip further into the shadows as almost every eye turned on her.

"He slunk back into the hole whence he came. That filth died of his wounds long ago."

Next Chapter: Rain