Chapter 2 (Kili)
An eventful first meeting that was, there is no doubting in that. After nearly half of an hour, during which there has been screaming, swearing, clawing, growling, arguing, debating, philosophical discussion of the workings of the universe, glaring, confessing, and finally pleasant conversation in the last ten or so minutes, I now know a sight more about the hallucination girl. She is not in fact, a hallucination, although she is a girl. A "person" she called herself, and when Dwalin asked if that meant she was a human, she replied with "Who are we to define what humanity is?"
Clearly a human.
Just one who likes deep and philosophical musing.
Also, although she is a human, she is not from Middle Earth. She is from a place called Fremantle, Western Australia, on a 'planet' called Earth. Not middle earth, but just earth. This caused for logical discussion of whether our Middle Earth is somewhat contained inside her Earth, but this became far too difficult and unfathomable to reason with at the present. When we meet up with Gandalf, they said. He will have an answer.
Of course Gandalf so rarely reveals these answers, but we can only hope.
It occurred to me at some stage that we were all without a name to call her, so I found the voice to ask.
She is called Morgan. Morgan Carlyle.
Even her name is strange.
As is this forest. Mirkwood is as sinister as the name might presume, and I feel the heavy pressing weight of its secrets and magic bear down on me like a shroud. It covers the whole forest, and though it is a forest with trees and rocks and calling insects and brown earth, just like any other forest, there is something entirely diseased about it. Death, even, whispers in the air. It chills my very bones, and though I can see the rest of our party looking similarly rattled and sickened, Morgan seems to shrug off the ominous atmosphere with a sense of disdain and aloofness. She walks slightly apart from us, dipping her head to some kind of internal rhythm contained within her, and her features betray little thought. Only her eyes betray her, darting back to look at Thorin every so often. Although it was never officially mentioned to her, she too has identified him as the leader of our party for which she is now a part of. Really, her perception is quite astonishing, as is her ability to adapt. I suppose that is why the treacherous folds of this ever-extending forest seem to offer her no disturbance – she has had stranger experiences this afternoon than most.
I am quite openly staring at her again, I realise. She is not looking, of course, though her green iris fleetingly examine every falling leaf and scraggly branch, she is no longer curious or wary of me, or any of the others either. I don't know why this bothers me, but it does. I want her to look at me. Although for that to happen he would surely realise I've been gazing at her far too long to be proper, and the last thing I would have is for her to doubt my intentions. I have always been bold, and reckless too on many an occasion, but my need to do something right for once is overpowering in this instance.
I want to talk to her.
What do I say, though? Any attempt at wooing her would be misguided and wrong, although I should perhaps like to try, one day. No, it is not that, I am simply quite entirely fascinated with her, and to know more…would satisfy me to no end.