As Fili gently leads Belireis away Thorin cannot deny the way his nephew has already begun to look at her. He knows Gandalf sees it too even as he tells Bilbo to get some rest before the sunrises and they must leave. The hobbit looks overwhelmed but has not said anything out of turn or protested in any way and for that Thorin is grateful. A man who can keep his own counsel and weigh facts before acting will be a true gem on this quest, especially being surrounded by so many hard-headed dwarves. Thorin loves his kinsmen but even he has to admit their faults to himself if this quest is to succeed.
Then it is just Gandalf and himself on the precipice with the gleaming waterfall rushing past them like a loud sigh. The wizard looks haggard, more tired than usual and Thorin suspects it has something to do with Belireis. Foresight. He can hardly believe it.
They regard each other for a moment, both feeling the weight of leadership leaning heavily on each of them in different ways. Thorin knows that even though the wizard has different methods of completing this quest than he, Thorin, has in mind, the wizard still respects Thorin's judgment and wants the quest to succeed almost as much as Thorin does. For this reason alone, Thorin does the best he can to swallow his pride and apologize to the wizard. "I was wrong to be so curt with you early this evening," he says, words sticky in his throat, worming their way past his pride.
"And I was wrong to expect you to easily change and trust an elf," Gandalf acknowledges with a small smile. "Although I am grateful that you trusted me enough to do so."
Thorin nods in acquiescence. "And this business with the girl?" He says the phrase as a question, hanging empty, waiting for Gandalf to elucidate. The grey wanderer sighs deeply.
"Lord Elrond has asked me to attend a council upon the sunrise," he says, not quite answering Thorin's question yet but building the foundation for his response and explanation. "You must leave and you must take the girl with you. I will be unable to leave within raising suspicion but I will return to as soon as I am able. There are dark thing gathering in the world, Thorin, things stronger than even the evil of Smaug, of which I believe is only a precursor to what may come."
Thorin is disturbed by this, mostly because this is one of the only times he has ever seen Gandalf rattled. "What do you mean?"
"I wish I knew," The wizard says with a shake of his head. "But your meeting Belireis was no chance and I stand by that. Without me you will need someone to guide you when no path appears and you will need a healer. It can be no coincidence that she can fulfill both roles. Furthermore, I do not want her gift to remain here. I cannot explain the presentiment I have but if she were to stay here I suspect she would become more prisoner than anything, if only because the elves fear and revere those with the ability to see the future. With her we can at least offer her a choice about her future."
"I respect your wisdom on this," Thorin replies, "But I hardly think that a quest to possibly face a dragon is a suitable future for a farm girl. I admit she has formidable skills in battle. The way she dispatched that Warg to save Kili was something I have not witnessed from a woman before. But would she not be better suited to travel to her remaining family in Rohan? Surely they would take her in?"
Gandalf considers, thinking hard before wording his argument. "When I first realized the power she possessed I was struck with the strangest sense of memory that I have ever felt. As though I had met her before, in a previous life." Thorin looks at him curiously, admittedly skeptical but willing to indulge the wizard since he has powers that Thorin cannot fathom. "I cannot explain who she reminds me of but even that feeling is enough to convince me of her importance. She has glimpsed the mountain, even you must admit you have seen that in her eyes."
Thorin crosses his arms considering. When she first delivered that prophetic announcement, he had put a blade to her neck, suspicions raised but he cannot deny the truth he saw in her eyes as he threatened her. She has seen Erebor, witnessed the mountain in its lonely glory and he knows that deep down he wants to understand why.
Finally, he nods. "So it is settled then," he half asks the wizard. Gandalf nods at him, one hand wound around his staff, leaning on it slightly for support. "We will leave as soon as the sun rises. Hopefully your council provides sufficient distraction." He gives Gandalf a wry smile, knowing how much the other despises discussing things in a committee when there are actions to be committed.
Gandalf reaches into the folds of his robes, fumbling for a moment in his pouch and then produces two gleaming blades that he holds out to Thorin. The blades are sickle shaped, curved with leather wrapping on the handles, a perfect matched set. Engraved symbols wind up the blades, written in a language that Thorin does not understand but can now recognize as Elvish. He takes them from Gandalf, feeling their slight weight.
"I found those in the troll hoard," Gandalf explains. "The same feeling of familiarly came to me when I saw them and I would have you give them to Belireis." Thorin turns the blades in the moonlight, admiring, despite himself, the craftsmanship that went into the blades. "They are twins, named Sunrise and Sunset," Gandalf tells him.
"Fitting names," Thorin says, stowing them in his belt. Gandalf and he regard each other for a moment in the moonlight, sensing a turning point of sorts in front of them.
Gandalf lightens the mood. "I suppose I must go meet with the important elves," he says with a lightness in his tone, a smile in his ancient eyes. Thorin smiles back at him. "Leave with the sun," Gandalf instructs. "And trust what she tells you. I will join you as soon as possible."
"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""
Fili falls asleep within moments, having been awake for so long now that nature takes over and he is soundly breathing in and out on the floor of her room.
Belireis, however, stays awake late into the night, sitting on the window ledge of the room, gazing out at the moonlight. She was quiet as possible when she left her bed, gently laying the second blanket on top of Fili before heading to sit on the ledge. It is a cool summer evening and the moon feels like slender fingers on her bare skin. She leans her head back against the window frame, hair long down her back, gleaming dark gold in the dark.
Fili moves in his sleep and she gazes over towards where he lies, but he settles after a moment. She does not realize it but a small smile creases her lips as she looks at him, thankful for his kindness. The world has not been kind to her of late and his loyalty to her unbalances her. In fact, the kindness of the wizard and the hobbit and some of the dwarves is startling to her after all the events of recent months. She has been in a world so dark for so long and now it is turning to the grey of dawn. She knows not what it means, only that she is less alone, less full of the aching despair that robbed her of everything when she lost her family.
She thinks of them now, still quiet in her grief, not crying, trying her best to remember them fondly. Her mother's beautiful long, dark hair, her father's tawny beard and bear hug. Eodread's habit of yanking on her long braid, Theonin's lessons in knife fighting. There is aching, crushing, cursed guilt underneath it all, an all-consuming shame that wraps its hands tightly around her bones. Before, she knew not what her strange visions were telling her, knew not of the power of foresight. She had thought it was only a strange sight brought on by heat or dreams, not an ability based more in lore and magic than anything she could have ever thought was possible. If only she had known, had been smarter, had warned them, maybe they would still be here today.
She knows deep down that nothing can change what has happened, nothing could have altered her family's fate, but to have seen the destruction of the farm in her mind's eye and to have only thought it was a waking nightmare seems childish, foolish even. Bel will have to live with this for the rest of her life.
She does not know where her life is going now either. Only weeks ago, she was a simple farm girl heading home to see her family after a grander adventure than she could have ever hoped for. Only days ago, she was despairing of ever having a future. Now she has somehow, in a way beyond her comprehension, become part of a quest more noble and vast than she could ever have imagined she would be worth. She glances at Fili again. Can she do this thing, this adventure into the unknown? She is so small in a world so large, so insignificant in a quest filled with kings and dragons and forces greater than a mere mortal woman. He is so strong compared to her, so loyal and noble, someone who knows what their future holds.
She contemplates slipping out of the window and into the night, of wandering alone in the wilderness. She could seek a home in the halls of Edoras with her uncle Eothan, a simple life that would be normal, maybe pleasant and full of work she has always known. But even thinking about it she knows that that is not her fate. Something pulls her, from the very depth of her being, it pulls towards this quest.
The mountain appears before her eyes then, resplendent in the moonlight and she breathes in deeply at its snow-tipped beauty. She can hear Thorin saying its name with reverence, a whisper in the night.
Erebor.
Despite her doubts and the lingering insecurity in her mind, Belireis knows what she must do. She cannot sneak away, a thief in the night, stealing her own destiny from herself. The mountain calls to her, something primeval in its force, luring her closer.
Then the vision disappears and she is just staring at the night blooming blossoms outside her window. The summer air stirs her hair, slides slowly across the skin above her collarbones, lifting her hair away from her neck. Grey eyes gazing out into the night, she makes her decision.
As she does, a new vision sweeps across her. Golden light cascades over her as she looks at the kingdom of Erebor from high on top of a frozen waterfall. The ruins of a citadel linger in cragged cliffs and monoliths of stone around her. She is the only living thing for miles, the ruins of an old city spread out before her, the great plain, wide and waiting as it slopes towards the mountain. The clouds are slowly parting, the falling snow lingering for a moment and then melting in the air before it can land on her shoulders. On the precipice, she sees where it will all end for the quest; she stands alone but knows that soon forces will converge here, will fight for future and family.
Then she is back in Rivendell, on her knees in the healing room, heaving heavy breaths, a great sense of despair and hope flowing through her, an unnamable feeling that is so bittersweet that she can taste the tears forming in her mouth. The road ahead will be difficult and the ending no happy tale to tell children at night. She staggers to her feet, searching for the calming light of the moon in the sky, understanding for the first time the gravity of the curse she has been gifted.
She can see things before they happen but it is much more than that. She can sense, feel, the outcomes, know the way they will change her. This quest will scar her deeply, give her great love and friendship, and destroy her, but it will also make her into the woman she is meant to be, the woman how is so much more than a simple farm girl.
"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""
"With or without our help these dwarves will march on the mountain," Gandalf is telling Elrond as they ascend the stairs towards the council hall. "They are determined to reclaim their homeland."
"I do not believe that Thorin Oakenshield feels he is answerable to anyone," he continues when Elrond does not interrupt. "Nor for that matter am I."
Elrond looks at him with a wry glance. "It is not me that you must answer to," he tells the wizard as they reach the council chamber and looks beyond Gandalf to a point on the edge of the waterfall.
Gandalf looks to where the elf lord glances and moonlight strikes radiant upon a tall woman standing in the archway, framed by sky and star. She turns slowly, gracefully, her gown twisting around her, the twilight colored fabric starting dark at the hem and ascending to white at her neck. Her thick gold hair hangs in waves to her waist, a circlet of silver clasping the locks away from her face. Her skin is flawless and milky in the dark, almost translucent. Her face is grave, no recognitions in her expression, just serene calm.
Gandalf's mouth opens on its own accord in surprise as he takes a step forward, almost as if entranced by this apparition. "Lady Galadriel," he says in shocked reverence.
"Mithrandir," she answers, her voice low and full of power. "It has been a long time," she says, switching to Elvish which sounds as if it was made to be spoken by her lips alone.
"Age may have changed me..," Gandalf replies in the elvish tongue, giving her a slight bow, "… but not so the Lady of Lorien." He nods to her and her lips crease into a smile slowly as though she has practiced the exact moment for days but needed not to.
"I had no idea Lord Elrond had summoned you," Gandalf says, turning toward the elf lord in question. When Gandalf meets the dark eyes of the master of Rivendell, another voice comes from behind him.
"He didn't." The voice is deep and nasally, full of old power and command. Gandalf straightens slightly, recognizing the timbre and rumble for the person it is. "I did." Gandalf's brows crease as he slowly blinks, fighting to control his expression before he turns around.
A man who could be his relative in all but style and presentation stands in the council hall. Clad in white robes, muddied by travel at the edges, with a long white beard and straight head of hair with the darkest curling brows Gandalf has ever come upon, the man stands as his mirror, holding a staff of obsidian, topped with a smooth white, ovular stone.
Gandalf pulls his face into a smile and nods his head in respect. "Saruman."
Saruman declines to nod in respect back. "You've been busy of late, my friend."
"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""
As they set off in the morning sun, Bilbo looks back wistfully towards Rivendell. The rising sun gilds the homely house, sets the waterfalls to glistening golds and a peaceful hush lies over the still sleeping vale. He hears Elrond's voice telling him he is welcome to stay and he almost considers turning back before he hears Thorin's voice telling him to keep up. Regretfully he turns to follow the company across the edge of the wild.
Thorin gently takes Fili's arm as the younger dwarf passes him on the trail. Fili looks up at his uncle in expectation, fearing he has displeased him in some way. Thorin regards him for a moment and then leans close so that only Fili can hear his words. "Be careful," he whispers. When Fili looks at him in bewilderment, Thorin narrows the distance between them a little further. "Don't let yourself be blinded by what you want to see in her. She may not be what she seems."
He lets Fili go, the younger dwarf now even more confused than ever. The warning was so obscure, vague to the point of being insubstantial. He glances back towards where Belireis is keeping pace with the company, sunlight spraying golden highlights in her hair. He regards the retreating back of his uncle and ponders what Gandalf and Thorin discussed with Belireis last night. Perhaps his uncle is right, perhaps he is putting too much blindness in his own mind about Belireis. Yes, he cares for her but perhaps he should be more careful about her. There is something, more about her and that may be what Thorin is warning him about. He resolves to keep his distance today. He reasons that there is no sense in getting too close to a woman who he still barely knows.
The hobbit turns to follow the dwarves into the hills and is slightly surprised to see Belireis is right in front of him, her chestnut hair swept up high in a cornucopia of braids, held high off her face, showing her sharp cheekbones. He knew she was here but seeing the reality of her presence in their company reminds him of the perils that await them. He knows it is foolish to worry about her as if she was a defenseless woman, when clearly she is more capable with a weapon than he is, but a protective urge wells up in him. He risks increases his pace just a fraction and draws alongside her.
Belireis glance at him, a small smile on her lips. He can see she is still favoring one leg slightly and he is reminded that she is still recovering despite how hale she appeared to him when they saw her in the moonlight and elven dress. Goodness, was that only last night. So much has happened and although he has heard her tragic story, he does not feel as if he knows her all that well.
He wants to say something to her but finds that he does not know how to start a conversation with her. Every normal conversation topic seems taboo to him in light of her recent past. She must sense his flustered befuddlement because she points to his jacket, bright eyes on the buttons. "Those are beautiful buttons, Master Baggins," she says and her words sound very formal to him, as though she is addressing a better. "Did you make those yourself?"
"Me?" he asks. When she nods, a small crease of confusion appearing between her bright eyes, he stutters, "Um, no… not me no." She tilts her head at him slightly, as if expecting a further explanation and he racks his mind to try and remember where he got this waistcoat because suddenly he cannot remember anything in the face of this woman. Something about her stills his tongue and he cannot find the right words as if they have vacated his brain through his ears when he was sleeping.
Luckily, Kili is watching them with a small smirk on his face, clearly enjoying Bilbo's obvious embarrassment and infatuation. He stops on the path, letting Bilbo and Belireis catch up to him. "Mister Baggins here has many fine waistcoats in his hobbit hole, don't you Bilbo?" While Bilbo realizes what Kili is doing, Belireis looks at him in fascination.
"Do you?" she asks, a hunger for knowledge blooming on her open face. "Tell me about your home, Master Baggins," she entreats. "You are the first hobbit I have had the pleasure of meeting and I confess I do not know much about your people."
So Bilbo ends up telling Belireis that she really must call him Bilbo and she tells him that he really must call her Bel and so they spend the morning. He tells her of Market Day, his infuriating relatives, his maps and books and hobbit hole and how the dwarves ransacked his pantry when they first met him. He tells her of the room he discovered in Rivendell with the shards of a sword next to a mural of a dark man with a golden ring and the hero who defeated him with a broken blade. He puts so much vivid detail into the story that Belireis is soon smiling and listening rapt to his tale and Bilbo wants to keep that peaceful look on her face for as long as he possibly can. She even gives a small laugh at one point that makes Fili and Thorin, in particular, turn their heads and watch her eyes crease in a full smile, the first they have really seen from her. Even if it was only a small laugh, it sounds like birdsong and the whole company continues into the afternoon with spirits lifted.
After they pause for a late midday meal, Kili takes over Bilbo's role and tells her of the Blue Mountains, the only home Fili and he have known as they were not born when the mountain fell. He tells her of Moria and how Thorin received the name "Oakenshield." These tales are more sobering but he can see understanding color her reactions to the dwarves as she now intuits the heavy importance of this quest.
She asks questions occasionally, smart, keen questions. But most of the time she is content to listen to either Bilbo or Kili or to simply observe the dwarves when they pause for breath. She has this look of concentration on her face as she watches the company and Bilbo can almost see her cataloging the people around her. He realizes that she is the sort of person who is accustomed to being in the background, to being present but silent. She has this air about her that is knowledgeable and clever but not overbearing.
When they stop and make camp for the night, Kili and Bilbo both notice Bel stumble a bit as she unshoulders her pack. She looks ragged, weariness drawing lines under her eyes. She pushed herself hard to keep Thorin's pace, not wanting to seem a hindrance but clearly the trekking all day has taken its toll. She does not complain though and instead offers to help Bombur and Bofur make dinner.
Bilbo and the dwarves roll out their sleeping rolls, feeling satisfied at having put sufficient distance between themselves and Rivendell. The mood is lighter, the dwarves happier to be on the move again. Kili sidles up towards his brother who has taken out his pipe and is trying to light it as he waits for dinner to be ready. He nudges his brother playfully in the shoulder, "You're looking all broody and moody today, Mister Dutiful," Kili says. Fili takes a swat at him but Kili ducks away and then nicks Fili's pipe. "This wouldn't have to do with our newest company member, would it?" Kili says, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
"Shhhhh!" Fili hisses. He makes a grab for his pipe but Kili is faster, sticking out a boot that almost trips his brother. "Give that back, you menace," Fili growls under his breath.
"Ah so it is," Kili says with a laugh. Fili tries to hush him again but now Gloin and Nori are looking in their direction and Fili really doesn't want to draw their attention. Kili opens his mouth to say something in a joking tone but Fili doesn't let him get it out and rushes him, tackling his surprised brother who still manages to cuff him one as they go down in a sprawl of limbs. They wrestle about, completely rumpling their sleeping areas.
At the stewing pot, Belireis looks up as the dwarf brothers roll around like a pair of wolf cubs. "Don't be bothered by them, lass," Bofur tells her, a warm look on his face. "They're like that all the time."
"Oh, I suspect," she says with a smile. "I had brothers once," she says quietly. There is a sad memory in her eyes but she smiles fondly at the two dwarves tussling on the ground. Bofur regards her for a moment, this enigma of a woman with a kind smile and grief-riddled movements.
"Well maybe they'll stop if a beautiful lass brings them dinner," he suggests and pushes two bowls of stew into her hands. Even as she blushes fiercely he nudges her in the direction of the young dwarves. Fili has gotten the upper hand and has one of Kili's hands wrenched behind his back, pushing his brother into the ground while Kili tries in vain to kick him with Fili straddling his back.
Then Kili and Fili catch sight of her shyly approaching and Fili lets go of Kili's arm as Kili tries to frantically blow his messy hair out of his eyes. They both hastily get to their feet, Kili trying to subtly spit dirt from his mouth while Fili straightens his coat. She stops in front of them, keeping her eyes down and holding the bowls of stew out to them, shoulders about her ears slightly in embarrassment. Fili isn't moving so Kili takes over and carefully removes the bowls from her hands, careful not to move too fast with her. She has this scared animal look in her eyes and he honestly does not want to spook her right now.
"Thank you," Kili says and she nods, digging a toe into the ground behind the other ankle, hands clasped behind her back. She nods again and then walks quickly back to the fire to pass out more bowls of stew.
Kili nudges Fili with his elbow. "Sure it's not about her?" he asks suggestively. Fili punches his fist up underneath Kili's hand, splattering stew all over Kili's front. "Oh no…," Kili growls at Fili and then the brothers are at it again, rolling in the dirt.
