So I honestly meant to get this posted a lot earlier this week, but then school happened. Sorry! On the bright side, chapter three is already planned out and week after next is spring break, so I hope to get a lot done.
I'd like to say thank you to for the reviews, favorites, and follows - they mean a lot to me, and made a pretty hectic week a lot better. SnowLeopardSwan251 - I'm glad that you thought the first chapter was interesting. I'm hoping to have a more regular posting schedule in place soon. lostfeather1 - Thank you so much! I hope she lives up to your expectations. Fire Black Dragon - Thank you! Teleryn - I had a lot of fun trying to get into Bilbo's mind for last chapter. I felt like he would feel RIGHTEOUS INDIGNATION at... dwarves moving his furniture and eating his food ;)
Disclaimer: The only characters I own are Amrûn and the briefly-mentioned Tarun. All canonical characters are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien, Peter Jackson, New Line Cinema, Warner Bros. Studios, and many others who are much richer than I am.
Edit: I went back over this chapter and noticed a few errors in Amrun's description, which have since ben cleared up. Unfortunately, when I tried to replace this the first time I messed up and erased the author's notes at the beginning and end of this chapter, so hopefully that doesn't happen again. Next update coming soon, and since I'm on break (thank god) I'll probably be able to get up both three and four. Five too, if I don't procrastinate myself to death. Thanks for reading!
Edit Take Two: Guess who sucks at continuity? Meeeee.
Another edit made to Amrûn's description, even though it's literally one word. Chapter four is on the way, meant to post it Sunday but I had Easter with the family. Speaking of which, Happy (belated) Easter!
There was an unspoken question in everyone's mind as heads turned, each dwarf taking count. Thirteen dwarves, one hobbit, and one wizard were piled into the dining room. So who was at the door?
"Perhaps it's one of my neighbors? You were being awfully loud..." Bilbo offered nervously. Gandalf blew out a smoke ring and swept into the hall, followed closely by Thorin, the rest of the company drifting behind curiously.
"On the contrary, my good friend! It would seem that Amrûn has finally arrived!"
Punctuating his statement, there was a loud slam on the door, causing a collective jump throughout most of the company. They had been in the middle of discussing Smaug the Terrible, after all.
"Who is this Amrûn you speak of, Gandalf?" Thorin demanded, keeping his voice low and composed. This had not been part of his plans. Gandalf's first find was enough of a disappointment; he didn't need another tonight.
"Why, I consider Amrûn one of my closest friends! Their skills will prove useful to you on this journey, I believe," Gandalf said, beckoning Bilbo forward. Amrûn always had been rather impatient, and he supposed Bilbo would be quite unhappy if his door was broken down.
Startled by yet another unexpected intrusion, Bilbo hesitated before stepping forward. He ran a hand through his hair and straightened his suspenders nervously, and finally swung the door open to meet the newest visitor.
He was almost frightened enough to slam the door shut again. Clad in a violently red cloak, the visitor wore a black mask that covered their face and left only their eyes visible in the light that fell across her from the open doorway. They were more amber than brown, a thoroughly unnerving shade, and Bilbo felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as the figure inspected him silently.
"Master Bilbo Baggins of Bag End, I hope?" they finally spoke, and Bilbo blinked, hearing an outburst of surprised whispers from the gathering of dwarves. The voice that issued forth was rough and strangely accented, but unmistakably female.
"I-Yes, I am," he stuttered. The woman surveyed him once more, than nodded, and he was taken aback at the sudden warmth in her eyes.
"Well, that's certainly a relief! I was beginning to think I might have ended up in the wrong village entirely!" she said. She bowed deeply, one hand pressed to her heart, before straightening and meeting his eyes once again. "Amrûn, at your service! May I come in?"
"Oh, yes! Of course! You must be soaked!" He babbled, moving aside to let her in. Amrûn stepped inside, pausing at the threshold when she felt the weight of fourteen pairs of eyes. She inclined her head curtly and slipped the red hood off her head, revealing black hair cropped to her shoulders. The dwarves present exchanged glances; women of any race were known to wear their hair long.
"Late again, I see," Gandalf spoke lightly, drawing her attention.
"Gandalf," she breathed, pulling down the mask on her face. Bilbo couldn't restrain a gasp of shock as she rushed to embrace the wizard, and heard it echoed by the gathering of dwarves.
"Of course I'm late; you gave me a day's notice to get here! Poor Tarun's absolutely exhausted!" She scolded, but the note of anger in her voice faded as she threw her arms around the wizard (though she barely came up to his chest.) Bilbo was glad that her attention was focused on Gandalf; he couldn't seem to stop staring at her.
There was something striking to Amrûn, if not quite beautiful. Her skin was dark, darker than even a Harfoot, and there were freckles scattered over the bridge of her nose and her high cheekbones. Her lips were full, and her eyes, lined with smudged black makeup, were clear and kind (if oddly-colored.) There was a small golden ring in her nose, and a silvery snake coiled around her right ear. Even the scar through her eyebrow and the tell-tale bump of a broken nose were somewhat appealing, but oh, that scar...
The left side of her face was a mass of mottled, pitted scar tissue from temple to chin, curving over her jaw before disappearing into the carefully knotted scarf around her throat. The surrounding skin was pink and raw-looking, and her eye, though somehow functional, was pulled into a squint. Bilbo couldn't tell whether she even had an ear on the injured side, and light gleamed weakly off muscle and bone where the flesh of her cheek had been destroyed completely. The sight made his gorge rise, and he swallowed the sudden bitter acid in his throat, tearing his eyes away from the ruined skin in favor of staring at the floor.
"It has been too long, my friend," Gandalf was saying, holding her at arm's length so he could ruffle her short hair. She pushed him away gently, rolling her eyes at her friend's antics before turning her attention back to Bilbo, who couldn't seem to meet her eyes.
"You have a lovely home, Mr. Baggins," she murmured, undoing the clasp on her thick cloak. She started when the weight was removed from her shoulders and turned on her heel to meet two grinning dwarves.
"Fili-" said the blond.
"-And Kili!" said the brunette, squeezing the water out of her saturated cloak (much to Bilbo's distress.)
"At your service!" they chorused, bowing together. Kili couldn't help but look at the scar she bore, excited. He felt sure there would be a long tale behind it, and he had always enjoyed stories of battle. And a good story from a pretty girl was even better!
He swallowed, feeling uncommonly bashful when she returned his grin with a warm smile. "Thank you, Kili. It's a pleasure to meet you both," she replied, bowing herself. The flush on Kili's cheeks did not go unnoticed by Thorin, and his frown deepened when he turned his attention back to the woman.
Unperturbed by the glower she was receiving, Amrûn straightened out her red tunic and adjusted the sword at her hip. This, too, made the dwarves whisper amongst themselves. It wasn't uncommon for dwarf women to wear breeches and carry weaponry, but this was no dwarf. The short sleeved tunic revealed one arm covered in intricate tattoos, while the other bore the same disfiguration as her face and the tips of two fingers on her left hand were missing entirely.
"Amrûn!" Gandalf called, beckoning her forward. She looked up and met the icy eyes of the dwarf beside him, and steeled herself for what she knew would be an uncomfortable meeting. Gandalf put a hand on her shoulder, skillfully ignoring the dark look Thorin gave him. "I would like you to meet the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield."
"It's an honor to meet you, Master Oakenshield," she said, bowing deeply to the regal dwarf.
"I wish I could say the same," he grunted, unimpressed. "You said nothing of a fifteenth member, Gandalf."
"Amrûn is here on my request alone, and will assist me through the journey," Gandalf replied, tranquil as a forest. "And I assure you that she will not be a hindrance on your quest. She is well-acquainted with travel, and has friends throughout Middle-Earth who could be persuaded to lend us aid on the journey."
Thorin fell silent. Grudgingly, he shot a glance at Amrûn, who was listening passively. She had a soft, unassuming look, but there was a self-assured air to her that reminded him of Dís, and that sword looked as if it had been used often. Nevertheless, he was leery of her; he wasn't about to trust her just on Gandalf's word, and he didn't care for those odd eyes. The only ones who were supposed to know about the quest to Erebor were twelve of his most trusted friends and family, Gandalf, and the hobbit.
"I will discuss this with you later, wizard," he finally growled, striding back into the dining room with the rest of his company trailing behind him.
Exchanging glances, Gandalf and Amrûn followed the dwarves into the dining room, Amrûn leaning against the entryway across from Bilbo. "Do you need anything to eat, miss?" The hobbit thought to ask. "I don't know if I can find anything..."
"That won't be necessary, but thank you for the offer," Amrûn responded. The hobbit gave her a shy smile, the first she'd seen from him since arriving, and she responded with one of her own.
"Lady Amrûn!" A familiar voice drew her attention to the back of the room. "We have room for you here," Fili called, patting the bench where he and his brother sat, both looking hopeful. Amrûn looked to Gandalf, who nodded, and padded over to the offered seat and managing to squeeze herself into the space beside Kili, who beamed at her.
"Amrûn, before I forget let me introduce you to the rest of the Company," Gandalf interrupted. As Amrûn watched attentively, he gestured to each dwarf. "You've met Fili, Kili, and Thorin, so allow me to introduce the rest of this fine Company: Balin, Dwalin, Oin, Gloin, Bifur, Bofur, Bombur, Dori, Nori, and Ori!"
Amrûn's brow furrowed as she contemplated the Company, committing names and faces to memory. Thirteen in all, along with Bilbo and Gandalf. "Think you can get us all in one try, lass?" One dwarf called from his place next to Thorin. He was Bofur, she remembered; that hat was far too distinctive to forget.
Tilting her head, Amrûn's lips twitched. "Is that a challenge, Master Bofur?" she asked.
"Good one, lass! Now that's twelve more to go!" Bofur said, smiling winsomely at her. She couldn't help but grin back, and cast one last glance around the table before beginning, pointing at each dwarf as she went.
"Fili and Kili, Thorin, Balin, Dwalin, Oin, Gloin, Bifur, Bofur, Bombur, Dori, Nori, Ori," she counted off, absentmindedly adjusting her scarf. "That's thirteen of you, isn't it?"
Kili whooped and patted her on the back, almost pitching her off the bench. Bofur winked solemnly and tipped his hat, and Gandalf puffed proudly at his pipe.
"Very well done, yes. Now, if we could get back to the issue at hand…" Balin began gravely, looking to Thorin to continue. And so he did.
"Indeed… If we have read these signs, do you not think others would have read them too? Rumors have begun to spread. The dragon, Smaug, has not been seen for sixty years. Eyes look East to the mountains, assessing, wondering, and weighing the risk. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we sit back and let others claim what it rightfully ours? Or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor!" Thorin had risen to his feet during his speech. The end of his words heralded raucous cheering from the assembled dwarves, banging on the table and pouring liberal amounts of ale.
Amrûn, on the other hand, was frowning. She couldn't deny that it was an impressive speech, and there had been a shiver up her spine when those blue eyes met hers. She had thought Thorin cold before, but there was a fiery anger beneath the surface. She had heard tales of the sack of Erebor many times during her stays in Laketown and the Greenwood, and had leapt at the chance to join when Gandalf had sent her the message. Now, surrounded by the Company, she wasn't so sure. Some of them looked so young…
She was brought out of her stupor when a foaming mug of ale was pushed towards her by Kili. Managing a slight smile, Amrûn took the drink and toasted with the dwarves before drinking deep. The ale was of good quality, unsurprising for a hobbit, and made a good job of calming her nerves.
"You forget that the front gate is sealed! There is no way into the mountain!" Balin called over the festivities. Thorin dropped back to his seat, a look of weariness coming over him that made Amrûn feel a sudden pang of sympathy.
"That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true!" Gandalf boomed. With a quick flourish, he produced a tarnish silver key from what seemed like midair, much to the awe of the Company. Amrûn, unfazed, rummaged in her pack. She had known the wizard for a long time now; such tricks were child's play compared to some of the miracles she had witnessed him perform. Her fingers brushed against her pipe, buried beneath a layer of miscellanea. Drawing it out of her pack, she fiddled with it irritably, not catching the surprised looks from Fili and Kili. She was aching for a smoke after her journey, but her father had always taught her that it was rude to smoke at the table.
"How came you by this?" Thorin asked, watching the key reverently as Gandalf twisted it in his thin fingers.
"It was given to me by your father, by Thrain, for safekeeping," Gandalf explained solemnly. "It belongs to you now." With no small degree of delicacy, the wizard passed the ancient key to the rightful King Under the Mountain. There was a sense of rightness as the key was returned to Thorin's grasp, as if some part of the universe, displaced, had been returned to the correct alignment.
Fili leaned forward, eagerly joining the conversation with, "If there's a key, there must be a door!" Amrûn had to bite back a laugh, her amusement only growing at the bemused look on Kili's face.
Gesturing to the faded map which lay on the table, Gandalf said, "These runes speak of a hidden passage to the lower halls…"
Kili started, cuffing his brother on the shoulder. "There's another way in!" He exclaimed, beaming around the table.
Amrûn narrowly managed to disguise her snort with a theatrical coughing fit and excused herself, escaping into the hallway. She turned into the kitchen and scoured the shelves, still shaking with laughter. She'd always been quick to like people, and Fili and Kili were no exception; but Kili had just looked so proud of himself that she couldn't restrain her amusement.
Watching her go, Gandalf smiled fondly at the young woman. It had been a long time since he'd heard her laugh so genuinely. "Well, if we can find it, but dwarf doors are invisible when closed! The answer lies somewhere hidden in this map, and I do not have the skill to find it. But there are others in Middle Earth who can…" He began. Thorin grimaced, knowing exactly who he spoke of, but Gandalf pressed on. "The task I have in mind will require a great deal of stealth, and no small amount of courage. But, if we are careful and clever, I believe that it can be done."
"That's why we need a burglar!" Little Ori piped.
Nibbling on his pipe, Bilbo murmured, "A good one, too. An expert, I'd imagine!"
"And are you?" Gloin asked.
"Am I what?"
"He said he's an expert, hey-hey!" Oin called out, laughing.
"Me? No, no, no, no, no! I'm not a burglar; I've never stolen a thing in my life!" Bilbo exclaimed, looking desperately to Gandalf.
"I'm afraid I have to agree with Mr. Baggins. He's hardly burglar material," Balin cut in smoothly, his brother chiming in with, "Aye, the wild is no place for gentlefolk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves. " The gathered dwarves began to bicker, Bilbo nodding frantically in agreement with Balin and Dwalin.
Amrûn, having moved to the pantry, heard little of this. But the roar of, "ENOUGH!If I say Bilbo Baggins is a burglar, then a burglar he is!" made her jump, and the familiar tingle of magic down her spine made her exit the pantry, clutching a (slightly bruised) apple. The hobbit had disappeared from his spot in the doorway, and there was a shadow creeping into the hall. She shivered and flicked a few sparks at the approaching darkness; she had never cared for the way Gandalf's magic burned cold with his anger. Luckily, it receded quickly and Gandalf continued in a more ordinary tone.
"Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet. In fact, they can pass unseen by most if they choose. And while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of dwarf, the scent of hobbit is all but unknown to him, which gives us a distinct advantage. You asked me to find the fourteenth member of this company, and I have chosen Mr. Baggins. There's a lot more to him than appearances suggest, and he's got a great deal more to offer than any of you know… Including himself."
Listening, Amrûn allowed herself a small smile. She'd be lying if she said she hadn't had her own doubts about the hobbit. He seemed nice enough (and wasn't that the most generic descriptor, nice) but not the adventuring type; then again, she supposed the same could have been said of her all those long years ago. And hadn't it been a wizard who had pulled her out of that easy, content, dull life?
"You must trust me on this," Gandalf said.
"I asked you to find a fourteenth member, yes. And you have brought a fifteenth as well," Thorin griped. Amrûn rolled her eyes, biting a chunk out her apple.
"I promise you, she will be an invaluable ally on this quest! If you are willing to give Mr. Baggins the benefit of the doubt, then I must ask you to extend the same courtesy to Amran," Gandalf countered. There was a silence, broke finally by a low, put-upon sigh.
"Very well. We'll do this your way."
"No, no, please," Bilbo protested weakly.
"Give him the contract. Balin, draw one up for the girl as well."
"I don't mind sharing, if that's alright with Mr. Baggins," Amrûn said, padding over to the dining room and smiling at Bilbo, who returned it weakly.
"Alright, we're off!" Bofur whooped.
"It's just the usual summary of out-of-pocket expenses, time required, remuneration, funeral expenses, so forth," Balin explained.
"Funeral arrangements?" Bilbo repeated, looking ill. He stepped out into the hallway and unfurled the contract, letting out a small moan when it brushed the floor. Amrûn, peering over his head, just sighed and ate her apple. The whispered conversation between Gandalf and Thorin caught her attention, but she focused on the contract Bilbo was reading aloud.
"Terms: Cash on delivery, up to but not exceeding one-fourteenth of total profit, if any. Seems fair," he said, looking up at the woman behind him who offered a noncommittal shrug. "Eh, present company shall not be liable for any injuries inflicted by or sustained thereof including but not limited to lacerations… evisceration… incineration?!"
"Oh, aye!" Bofur called cheerfully. "He'll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye. "
"You alright, laddie?" Balin asked, looking concerned. The hobbit was looking a bit peaky.
"Uh, yeah! Just feel a bit faint," Bilbo squeaked, bending over and trying to regain his breathing. Amrûn placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, and he looked up at her gratefully. His hands were clenching the contract so tightly that she feared he might tear it.
"Think furnace with wings," Bofur continued, ignoring the warning glance Amrûn sent him. "Flash of light, searing pain, then poof! Nothing left but a pile of ash." Bilbo swayed on his feet, breath coming in quick, harsh gasps.
"He's just trying to scare you, Mr. Baggins," Amrûn said coolly.
"R-Really?" Bilbo stuttered, blushing a little when his voice cracked.
"Yes!" she said. Bilbo felt slightly reassured, but the churning in his stomach soon returned when she went on. "Dragon fire's hot enough to burn without even touching you. If you were directly hit, you wouldn't have time to feel a thing." Pausing, she took a bite of her apple. "As far as dying goes, it's fairly pleasant. Surviving is what's painful."
Bilbo relaxed at her words, his breathing evening out. He straightened to his full height (not particularly impressive, especially with Amrûn next to him) and regarded the company calmly.
"Nope!" was all he managed to say before his knees went out from under him. Amrûn managed to slip an arm underneath his shoulders and support his weight, but it did little good; the hobbit was out long before he hit the ground.
"Very helpful, Bofur. And well done, Amrûn!" Gandalf snapped. Amrûn sighed and swept off into the living room with the hobbit in her arms, uncomfortably aware of the blue eyes that tracked her as she went.
Here she is, t̶h̶e̶ ̶b̶i̶g̶g̶e̶s̶t̶ ̶d̶o̶u̶c̶h̶e̶ ̶i̶n̶ ̶M̶i̶d̶d̶l̶e̶-̶E̶a̶r̶t̶h̶!̶̶
Okay, ignore that last part. Amrûn has finally arrived, and I hope she makes a good impression. She's certainly made an impression on Thorin, but I'm not sure if it's a good one.
I have to say, I'm not really pleased with the description of her scar. I was picturing awful, charred Sandor Clegane-esque burns, and I don't think I captured that well.
also wow guys I wonder where she got those scars. such a mystery isn't it. If you have a guess, why not leave a review?
