Disclaimer: I don't own anything - Tolkien gets all the credit.

A/N: Sorry for the delay on this one – I had family in town and then finals, so life got a little crazy – hopefully the wait was worth it I had meant to reach the confrontation with the trolls in this chapter, but unfortunately that will have to wait until next time … Please review!

Chapter 4

The sky had opened up early on the thirteenth day of the company's journey. Hilde's Maiar blood kept her from feeling the impact of the cold, but it was obvious that her companions were becoming weary. Hilde's dark hair stuck to her head, the fur of her coat wilted with the rain – she was sure, from a quick glance round to her comrades, that she too looked a little worse for wear. Thorin rode at the head of the group, still managing to look regal despite it all. He would occasionally glance back toward her, a bewildered look on his face. Hilde tried not to dwell on it, but as the day wore on, he continued to look her way with the odd expression.

Gathering below a rather large oak tree that offered a little protection from the rain, the company stood before a small fire to eat and rest the ponies. Hilde glanced to their leader and saw him looking straight at her – the odd look still on his face. He motioned her to follow him as he stepped away from the group, not glancing back to see if she followed.

Becoming more and more uneasy at the situation, Hilde followed. "Have you something to say, Thorin?"

"Merely a question for you, Hilde, elf friend." Nearly spitting the words out, Thorin made it clear that he was still angry with her. Hilde raised an eyebrow at the title he bestowed upon her, but said nothing. "You said something before that alarms me."

Sighing loudly, Hilde nearly rolled her eyes. "If you wish to ask me about my time with the Elves, please don't. I have no desire to argue with you."

Thorin replied, ice in his tone that startled her. "You said that you father knew of our quest. Who is this dwarf? How did he come to learn of it?"

If Hilde gasped, she didn't hear it. Her heart seemed to stop as she thought back to every word she ever uttered to Thorin Oakenshield, attempting to trace where this error had happened. How could she possibly speak of her father? In the nearly 2,000 years that Hilde had lived on Middle Earth, she had never made such a massive mistake. No one, not Thorin Oakenshield nor any other member of their company could know that Gandalf the Grey was her father. That knowledge could travel, reaching the ears of Saruman the White. Hilde could not imagine the consequences that would mean for her beloved father. Or herself.

"I do not know what you mean." Was the only response that she could utter, shock making her voice crack.

"Do not play me for a fool. You said to me that your father told you of my quest. Tell me – who is he?" His voice felt like stone in her chest, making her want to flee. Hilde dared not turn toward the rest of company for fear of drawing their attention, so she simply stood her ground.

"I would never call you a fool, Thorin son of Thrain. I simply cannot answer your question." His eyes, those endless pools that always affected her so deeply, were drilling into her. The near physical presence of his gaze was breaking Hilde's resolve. "I cannot say, because it would lead to ruin for my father. No one can know. I cannot believe I have allowed myself to say as much as I have."

"I care not. I must know." His arms were crossed over his chest, his feet planted wide, seeming more imposing by the minute. "If it does not cause harm to my quest or my people, the knowledge will remain between us."

Hilde could no longer stand it. She turned toward the rest of their company and sought out her father's presence. He was looking right her – that seemed to be happening a lot lately. His eye was twitching the way it always did when he was tense. He glanced to Thorin, then back to Hilde, before nodding. Hilde didn't understand at first, until he nodded to the dwarf once more before lighting his pipe and turning away.

Hilde swallowed hard. Looking back at Thorin, she lowered her voice so that he would be the only to hear the confession. "It will not harm your quest or your people. For my father has aided your quest greatly and travels as a member of this company. My father, Thorin son of Thrain, is Gandalf the Grey."

The following hours we some of the most tense Hilde could recall in recent memory. Thorin had become deathly silent as he marched toward Hilde's father and two walked away from the camp, heading further into the trees and out of sight. Fili had brought Hilde cheese and bread after a time, concerned at seeing her standing alone.

"Everything alright, Lade Hilde?" His handsome face wore a smile and she could tell that he wouldn't leave until she answered.

"Of course, I'm just tired of the rain. How are you and Kili holding up?" As if summoned by his name, Kili bounded over to the pair with a wide smile on his face.

"We're big strong dwarves, my Lady, no need to worry on our account!" The flourish of arms and the deep bow that Kili and Fili gave at that comment made Hilde laugh. They both had silly smiles on their faces and looked proud of the distraction they provided her.

"Thank you for taking my mind off of less happy things." Returning to the group, Hilde sat with Dori and Nori as they attempted to out-do each other in a game of marbles. Gloin had wagered that Nori would win, while Bombur and Bofur were sided with Dori. The group laughed and chatted, relaxing as they waited for the return of their leader.

"I suppose we're staying here for the night, then." Dwalin said loudly as he paced the camp.

"Thorin surely had important matters to discuss with Gandalf," Balin replied as he watched his brother stomp around. "This journey will be long, so it can't hurt to rest a bit and allow the rain to pass."

As the sun began to set, Thorin and Gandalf returned to camp, both seeming rather more relaxed then they had been when they had departed earlier. "About time, laddie. Bombur is about to start on supper!" Dwalin clapped his king on the shoulder, causing Thorin to smile slightly as he neared the group. Thorin didn't spare Hilde a glance.

As she stepped toward her father, Gandalf lit his pipe. The smell of pipe smoke had always given Hilde a sense of calm, of safety. The smell she associated solely with her father. "I'm so sorry, Olórin. I did not mean to speak of it. I did not mean to tell him."

"I know, child. Do not worry yourself. Thorin is an honorable man and he will keep our secret." Gandalf seemed sure of that fact, even though Hilde might not trust the silence of the dwarven King who seemed more attached to his pride than anything else.

The frustration, distrust and irresistible pull that Hilde felt for Thorin constantly threw her mind into disarray. She could barely concentrate. The close proximity to him was flipping her existence end over end and Hilde needed it to stop. Sitting down next to her father, Hilde dug her fingers into the soft and damp earth beneath her, closing her eyes. She reached out with her power to feel the pulse of the world around her. The trees in this part of the world were young, still full of life and excitement. The rain was bringing the creatures of the forest to life and the flow of their energy made Hilde feel more centered than she had in days.

Hilde began to hum a low tune, one that her mother had taught her during her first life in the halls of Khazad-dum. It was a slow, mournful song about the loss of dwarven man as he sought out the perfect jewel for his lady. His lady had fallen into despair and traveled into the depths of the mountain to seek him out. Neither was ever seen again. The song, just as the smell of Gandalf's pipe, brought Hilde a sense of calm – a lasting memory of her long lost mother. Opening her eyes after the song was done; Hilde looked up to see Gandalf in quiet meditation as well. This journey was taxing for them both and Hilde could not help but worry about the implications of Gandalf's love for the dwarven people. Would the dragon destroy them all? It was a real possibility.

The following morning saw an end to the rain, though the louds still loomed heavy in the sky. The surrounding forest began to dissipate into rocky formations and small caves as the day went on. Making up for the lack of progress the day before, the company traveled through the mid-day meal and didn't stop until well after dark. After searching for a time, Thorin called the company to a stop at a small hill with a protected space of rock at the top. After quickly starting a fire and eating a meager meal of potato stew, Hilde laid down to rest by the fire. Fili and Kili sat to her left, taking first watch.

Hilde was woken a short time later by the sound of Balin's voice as he told the tale of the Battle of Azanulbizar. He spoke of Thror's death, Thorin's great battle against the pale orc Azog, and the bloody aftermath that followed. Hilde opened her eyes to see the other dwarves in their company standing tall while Thorin stood off in the distance. It could not be denied that these dwarves loved their leader… and he was a born leader – that too would not be denied. Thorin inspired greatness and loyalty.

Hilde pretended to still be asleep as Bilbo asked after the pale orc. Whatever Thorin's reply, Hilde did not listen. She needed to become immune to his presence and so she dug her fingers into the earth and concentrated on the life around her. The earthen magic spoke of something nearby – a warning. Danger was not imminent, but Hilde would need to be watchful. Gathering her staff closer to her, she attempted to sleep once more, but try as she might, Hilde did not find rest that night.