Hey guys! Here's the next part of that little Lake escapade! Thanks to iadek4897, I realized that I sent our poor little Durin's to the city without any clothes! I've gone back and fixed it, if you'd like to go back and read the last chapter:)
I've introduced a couple new characters into this story. They won't have a huge significance in this story, I just thought it'd be the best way to enter this chapter. They will be in future chapters, but don't worry, they won't influence the story too much.
The young soldier tapped his foot impatiently on the ground. The sun beat down on him as he stood guard outside the vast city walls. Nothing worthy of importance had occurred the entire day. No sign of a Warg pack or Goblin army had turned up, and he was beginning to wonder if there was even a point in standing around all day long. The last time there had even been an attack on Ered Luin had been 15 years ago. For all he knew, the dark and vile races of Middle Earth could have died out years ago.
'Well this is dull.' He thought, pitying himself and his lowly position. He let out a long, exasperated sigh, running his hand through his sun bleached hair. This was not what he was expecting of this job. He thought that being granted the position of defending the city walls would bring him fame and glory. In reality, all he got out of it was a light head and sore feet.
He shifted his weight back and forth for nearly ten minutes until he couldn't take it anymore. He searched for any means of entertainment. He tried making bubbles with his spit. That gave him some fun, but only for a short 10 minutes. He tried clacking his tongue. That was far too annoying. He tried banging his head against the stone wall. Maybe that would put him out of his misery.
He quickly grew tired. He peered over at the soldier that stood several feet away on the other side of the city gate. He knew he wasn't to speak with anyone, unless there were signs of a possible threat. To speak with others while he was on duty put him at risk of losing his job. But… he decided he would take that risk. Desperate times call for desperate measures.
"…Hey." He whispered, loudly.
"Hush, boy. I need to concentrate."
Oh. So it was one of those soldiers. The ones who take their jobs far too seriously. That was no fun.
So he tried again.
"Well, I just supposed that, since we're going to be standing here 'till nightfall, maybe we could, you know… talk?" He was practically begging.
The other man stood in silent contemplation for a long while. Finally, he rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Fine," he gave in. "The name's Olgunn. Yours?"
The boy's eyes brightened considerably. "Varmar. But you can call me Var." Silence. "So… how long have you been a soldier, Olgunn? Can I call you Gunn?"
"No."
"…Alright…" The boy's cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
The air was quiet for a few long moments, and then, "Almost 30 years."
"What?" Var's head shot up.
"I've been a soldier for nearly 30 years."
"30 years? That's a long time…"
"It is." Olgunn replied, gruffly. "You?"
"Wha—oh me? Oh, I've only been in service for a month."
"Humph. You'll get there soon, son. It won't be long."
More silence.
"Um… so, have you killed any Orcs?" Var tested.
"Many."
"Oh. I haven't killed any."
"Honor isn't gained through how many Orcs or Goblins you kill, Varmar."
"Um, actually it's just Var—"
"Varmar." Olgunn's gaze was like steel. "Your mother gave you a full name for a reason. And do not interrupt me again."
The young man was shocked into silence. Olgunn was probably the most intimidating man he had ever encountered. He swallowed thickly.
"As I was saying," The older man continued. "Honor isn't obtained through your success in battle. Many times it is gained through your losses. I have learned that well in all my years of war."
"What do you mean?" Varmar hesitated in prying.
"Remember the war 15 years ago? On the outskirts of this city? You would be just a wee lad at the time."
Varmar nodded.
"Of all of the many battles I have been a part of, I have never seen greater acts of selflessness than on that day."
Varmar inched forward. He knew this would be a good story. Olgunn cleared his throat, and began.
"Ash was thick in the air. The Orcs had set fire to a vast portion of the forest. Smoke blurred every sight. It was almost impossible to breathe. Soldiers fell left and right. All I could hear were screams of despair and horror. But I didn't have time to dwell on those things. I didn't have time to dwell on the fact that I might never make it out of the battle alive. That I might never see my beautiful wife, my family again." He was quiet for a long moment. Varmar could almost see the memories playing in the older man's eyes. "The rage of the wicked creatures could be felt with every strike of their deadly weapons. It seemed there was no way out. No means of escape from the terror that consumed us. I nearly lost my life."
"But you didn't." Varmar interjected, excitedly.
"Obviously." Olgunn snapped, almost agitated. But his face softened, and he couldn't help but chuckle. The lad was young. He knew nothing of the horrors of war. "I wouldn't be here today if it weren't for the mighty Thorin Oakenshield."
The young man's mouth opened wide in amazement. Thorin Oakenshield. The famed Dwarf King. Of Varmar's 20 years of living, he had never seen the fabled Dwarf, although he lived in the very same city as he all his life.
"He… saved you?" Varmar gasped.
"That he did." The older man smiled in remembrance. His eyes shined with forgotten awe. "The King came down, with all the fury of the mountains, slaughtering every foul creature that got in his way. However, I became overpowered. The force of the evil was too many. I knew it was the end for me. There was no way out... I would not survive." He bowed his head.
Varmar's eyes were wide in apprehension.
"Then… I saw him." Something kindled in Olgunn's gaze. "He saved me. He dispatched the enemy more quickly than I could even comprehend. His power was unparalleled. I knew then that nothing could harm me. But I failed to realize that even Thorin Oakenshield isn't invincible. The enemy took notice of his strength. They knew he was a formidable foe. So they surrounded him. They were going to destroy him. And what could I do? A simple soldier. Untrained and unfit for such a battle. I could only watch as they attacked. I tried my best to defend him. For although he isn't a King of Men, he saved me. Yet I could do nothing." He hung his head in shame. "But another came. One I did not know. Another Dwarf of royal lineage. He cut down the Orcs in mere minutes, withstanding blows from every angle. But nothing could deter him. His glory equaled that of Thorin's. He defended his King until the very end. Those Dwarves, paired in battle were unlike anything I have ever seen before. But the defender… He fell. An arrow designed for the Dwarf King pierced straight through his heart."
Varmar stared, face drawn up in sadness. He could swear he saw a tear roll down the hardened warrior's cheek.
"Thorin showed more open grief at the fall of his companion than I have ever seen before. I later found that the one who fell defending him was his own brother-in-law. The husband of his sister, Lady Dís, and the father of his nephews and only heirs. His name was Aldín." Olgunn stared at the red sun in the horizon. "I will never forget that name."
Nothing was spoken for several minutes.
Olgunn turned to Varmar. "That is how true honor is gained. Through sacrifice. Not through how many Orcs you kill. Always remember that."
Silence reigned upon them for the rest of the day.
Shadows glanced off of trees, long and dark against the red background of the sun's rays. It was almost time for the two Men to retire for the night.
After many hours of contemplative silence, Varmar finally spoke up. "Listen, Olgunn, about your story—"
"Hush." Olgunn silenced him, stilling completely. "Did you hear that?"
"Hear what?" Varmar was puzzled. He hadn't heard a thing.
"In the trees." Olgunn whispered. He pulled out his sword from the hilt at his hip. Varmar hastily followed suit, still confused as to what exactly the other was hearing.
"What is it?" The boy asked.
"Be prepared for anything." He began walking towards the forest.
"Wait, what are you doing?" Varmar was frantic. Why on Earth would he go after the noise?
"Follow me, boy." Olgunn commanded.
"Alright…" Varmar and Olgunn slowly made their way to the woods, making sure their feet were light on the dry brush. Varmar couldn't control his breathing.
Suddenly, Olgunn froze. He held out an arm to prevent Varmar from walking any further. "Shh. It is coming."
The rustling in the trees finally became apparent, and Varmar found himself shaking in both fear and excitement. Finally, something new! But then again, this could potentially be the death of him…
Suddenly, without warning, two small figures burst out into the clearing several meters away.
Varmar raised his sword high with a battle cry, ready to run a hole through…! Two young children.
Olgunn immediately dropped his sword and hastened towards the little ones.
One seemed to be only an adolescent. His blond hair was clinging to his face, which was shining with perspiration. Leaning against him, unconscious was a younger, darker boy. His face was extremely pale.
The elder child let a look of utter relief fill his face at the sight of the two guards, and he let unconsciousness claim him.
Olgunn noticed this, and sprinted towards the younglings in an attempt to catch them. But it was all in vain, as the children fell face first into the grass. Varmar followed quickly, and knelt next to Olgunn as the seasoned warrior turned the young ones gently onto their backs.
"They're Dwarflings!" Varmar exclaimed, noticing the unique frames of their small bodies.
Olgunn muttered in affirmation. "Not just any Dwarflings." Varmer blinked, but was left without further explanation. Olgunn once more ignored Varmar's confusion as he lifted the older child into his arms.
"Carry the other. We must get them back to the city. It appears they took a swim in the Enchanted Lake."
"Really!? I've always wanted to go there, but I—"
"Never go there." Olgunn threatened, his eyes darkening. "There is a great evil about that place. A dark spirit dwells there, always waiting to claim a new soul. Much like a curse, it puts those who wander into its waters to sleep, and pulls them to the bottom. Those who swim in those waters never come back. Save for these two." He motioned to the Dwarflings. "How they got out, I have no idea."
"Oh." Varmar had always heard about the Enchanted Lake. But never the full truth. He and his friends never had the guts to actually venture out there. Now he was thankful that they never went.
They took the younglings in their arms, and began their short trek back to the gate.
"Where are we to take them? The Houses of Healing?" Varmar inquired, adjusting the dark Dwarfling in his arms. The child was eerily pale.
"No. We take them to their uncle first." Olgunn grunted.
"Oh. And who's that?"
"Thorin Oakenshield."
The shock of that name nearly caused Varmar to drop the young Dwarf.
"Uh… Could you please say that again?" The young man choked out.
"You heard me."
Varmar blinked rapidly, his mouth growing dry. "So… I, uh… so t-this is his… nephew?"
"Yes, you dense child." Olgunn smiled. "You hold in your hands an heir of the Line of Durin."
Varmar was shocked into silence for the rest of the trip back, trying to absorb the fact that, since he was carrying one of the heirs, he would have to come face to face with Thorin Oakenshield himself. What would he say?
"Um, yes. We found your nephews in the field. And… here they are… Goodbye."
That was the best he could come up with.
Before they knew it, they came to the gates. Olgunn called for the watch guards to open the gate. They were quickly ushered into the city. When the other guards finally realized who the children were, they paled and quickly sent for aid.
In a matter of mere minutes, a booming voice echoed through the streets, ordering people to move. The face of Thorin Oakenshield came into view, his crystalline eyes burning with unadulterated fear and anger.
"Where are they?" He demanded. His voice rasped in worry.
"They are here, Thorin." Olgunn stepped forward, holding out the elder nephew. Varmar took this as a hint and hesitantly stepped forward.
The Dwarf King breathed in relief. "Lie them down." He ordered, not unkindly.
The two Men did as they were bidden, and carefully set the Dwarf Princes on the cobblestone next to each other.
They looked very unwell. Shivers racked the frame of the blonde one. Sweat seeped from his pours, soaking his already drenched clothes. The dark one, however, lay completely still. His face was white, his lips blue. He appeared as if dead.
Thorin crashed to his knees next to his nephews. He pulled them both into his arms, cradling them against his body, taking no mind of the onlookers.
"Sir." Olgunn dared to speak. "We found them on the outskirts of the forest. We have reason to believe they ventured into the Enchanted Lake."
All color drained from the King's face, as he looked in horror at his nephews.
Suddenly, his head snapped up in urgency. "Send for Oín." His piercing gaze left no room for argument. A soldier nodded in assent, and quickly ran to fetch the healer.
Thorin turned his gaze from his nephews to the Men standing before him.
"I must offer you my thanks. If it weren't for you, it might have been too late for them. Thank you for saving my nephews." The Dwarf King bowed his head low.
"There is no need for thanks, Thorin Oakenshield. Think of it as a debt repaid. You saved my life. I simply brought your young nephews to you. It is I who should be offering my thanks." Olgunn bowed deeply. Varmar stood there, blankly, until Olgunn elbowed him in the ribcage. He bumbled for a moment, before finally uttering an "Oh!" and bowing in turn.
A faint smile fell upon Thorin's lips. "If there is ever anything either of you need of me, do not hesitate to ask."
Suddenly, a swarm of healers fell upon the boys, lifting them into stretchers as they hurried them away, Thorin swiftly following.
"Well, that was eventful!" Varmar couldn't help but grin widely. Finally! Something exciting happened! And he even had the chance to meet a living legend!
"Yeah, don't expect things to be like that all of the time, boy." Olgunn destroyed his hopes and dreams. But when the older man saw Varmar's smile falter, he grinned and clapped the young man on the back. "Don't worry. You will have your time. Honor will be brought to you. Perhaps not in the way you would expect it to. But it will come."
Varmar brightened. He would learn to love his position.
And maybe, in a few days time, he would even check on the young Dwarf Princes.
There you are! I hope you liked Varmar and Olgunn. Like I said, they won't be in the story too much. They'll just show up sometimes. Unless you guys want them to be in it a little more! I think Varmar will be more significant later in the story, but I'm not sure. Let me know! Oh, and if any of you still wanted to know what Ormr meant, it means 'serpant.' Tehe I shall have some fun with that later as well:)
Let me know what you guys would like to see!
Please review!
AND DON'T FORGET! THE HOBBIT: DESOLATION OF SMAUG TRAILER COMES OUT TOMORROW! :D