here's the next chapter, my lovelies. third chapter might come out some time next week, if not later. i'll say it now, high school is pretty damn hectic when you're also a varsity player.

~i do not own The Hobbit. all rights go to JRR Tolkien and Peter Jackson.~

Caligula was a red-tailed hawk Elijah and Fheon had taken under their wing. They had found her perched on a branch during their early days as Rangers, and as the days progressed she would just keep watching them. It was Elijah who had gotten up the courage to call her to him, and let her perch on his arm. Though there were scratches there that took several days to heal, they had been allowed to keep her. Elijah gave her the nickname 'Cali', and trained her to be able to discern where he wanted her to go by using bird calls. Whenever Hiram (one of the Rangers stationed with them) was required to meet up with the other Ranger stations, he would take Caligula with him and repeat to her a whistle. For Hobbiton, a single brief whistle. For Bree, it was one long whistle. For Fornost, one long one and a half. For Gharbad, three. Hollin, four. And the farther the distance was, the more whistles it took. It proved to be a very useful means of sending messages back and forth from the Dunedain camps.

Elijah borrowed a pen and piece of parchment from Balin—almost forgetting his name, in the process—and wrote a short paragraph to Hiram: Off on an adventure with the Company of Thorin Oakenshield. Reclaiming their homeland. Have Cali come back to me at dawn with your reply. Elijah and Fheon. Afterwards, he rolled up the parchment and tied it to Cali's leg using a twig.

Meanwhile, Fheon sat beside him, making sure that they had everything they needed in their packs. Water, coins, two sets of clothes, two bedrolls, bandages, food that will last a week… In the end, she did not feel very reassured.

She turned her head and found her brother taking a deep breath, before bringing his cupped hands to his mouth. He blew into it for once second, initiating the bird call, and then let his hands drop back down. Cali's head stretched out forward, and if she understood, then this was her way of showing it.

"What a beautiful creature," Kili said, inching forward and reaching a hand out to Cali. "What's his name?" Cali bit his finger, drawing a thin line of blood.

"Caligula," Elijah replied, watching with amused eyes as Kili sucked on his finger. "And he's a she."

"Got it." Kili, still wincing in pain, turned and walked back to his brother, who was just as pleased as Elijah. Fheon stroked the hawk's neck for a while, humming in approval, before pulling her hand away and telling her brother to send her off. Elijah tapped Cali's wing twice, and then pushed his arm upward. Cali flapped her wings and in two beats, she was off. She disappeared above the tree line, leaving Elijah and Fheon to themselves.

Meanwhile, Thorin had ordered his Company to lay down their bedrolls. "Get some sleep," he said. Fheon handed Elijah his pack and, as he stood to set it down, noticed that everyone, even Gandalf, was preparing to sleep.

Frowning, she perked up and inquired silently, "You do not take watches?" At this, Gandalf raised his head and looked at her with a glint in his eye.

"We start those outside of Bree," Thorin replied none too kindly. "The woods here are perfectly safe."

Fheon regarded him doubtfully, but stopped when Elijah manhandled her pack out of her arms and prepared to lay it down beside his—which was, to say, amidst all the other dwarves. Fheon took it back and said, "I'd prefer to sleep with fresh air."

She walked close to where the hobbit Bilbo was set up, and laid her pack down two trees away from him. When her pack was set up, she removed her bow and quiver and set it beside her; then she unclasped her cloak, rolled it, and placed it where her head would lay so it acted as a pillow. Rolling to her side, she stared at a single blade of grass until her eyelids grew heavy. Moments after she closed her eyes, she heard rustling behind her, followed by a murmured "Good night" from Elijah's familiar voice.

It was a rocky start to her relationship with the Company, indeed.

The sun had barely risen when Fheon blinked her eyes open. It was only as she'd expected, of course. Her slumber had not been fitful. During the night, she was constantly awoken by the dwarves' occasional mumblings. It was a mystery to her as to why she was the only one being disturbed. Even Elijah had slept through it, and she was fairly sure he had not been accustomed to snoring dwarves.

Frowning unhappily, Fheon rose as quietly as she could; taking her rolled up cloak, bow, and arrow with her, she then walked away from the clearing. Perhaps, if game walked by, she could do a bit of hunting for the dwarves' breakfast, since they appeared to have no proper food for themselves anyway. And if her memory served her, there was supposed to be a freshwater creak not very far from where they were. She unrolled her cloak and pinned the clasp together around her neck once more. It used to be heavy; she was not sure whether it had become lighter over the years, as she grew, or if she had just gotten used to it.

After only a few minutes of walking, Fheon was able to register the soft gurgling of the stream. She knelt by it, making sure that her cloak did not reach the bed, and splashed the water onto her face. The water was cool; it woke her up completely. She was rubbing drops of it onto her neck when she noticed something moving from the corner of her eye. She seized up, almost shooting to her feet, but then relaxed and eased into a more suitable position when she found that it was a bevy of quails. There were half a dozen or so of them, quickly walking past Fheon as she slowly, gingerly, slipped her bow off her shoulder and nocked an arrow. Only three of the birds were very large and looked meaty, but that would have to do.

She took aim at the fattest one, held her breath and let her arrow fly. The tip had barely reached the one quail's eye when two more arrows followed it, decapitating the other two.

Fheon took a deep breath, pleased with herself, and jumped across the stream. She pulled her arrows out of each quail's head and washed them, before carrying the three birds by their tails (which were longer than expected, thankfully). Deciding that she would leave the gutting and the skinning to the dwarves, she had only just jumped back across the stream when a rough voice questioned her: "What do you think you're doing?"

She raised her head and stared at Thorin blankly; he was standing a little ways in front of her, looking at her with judgmental eyes. She raised the three quails hanging in her hand and answered, "Breakfast," before trudging past him and back to the camp. There, she found the rest of the Company already stretching their limbs and packing their bedrolls. She dropped her game in front of Bombur and Bofur, and was surprised when they did not even look up. They grunted, but said nothing more, and Fheon took this as a sign of good faith.

Elijah eyed her happily. "Early start?" he said.

"Someone had to find breakfast," Fheon replied, taking out the canteen of water she had in her pack and gesturing to her quiver of arrows.

"You didn't waste any arrows… And I thought you'd been getting out of practice."

"If anyone's out of practice, it's you."

"Want to see about that?"

Fheon rolled her eyes. "I hardly think we'll have time for a shooting session. But tomorrow we'll be up early—if you wake up, that is—and we can see who's really remembered Hiram's lessons, hm?"

"Of course, but the Company goes first." Her brother grinned, before clearing it from his face and unclenching his hand. "Got this just now," he said, handing her a tiny slip of paper, only as big as her pinky. She unrolled it and found three words written onto the parchment:

Be safe. – Hiram

"At least he has an idea of what we've gotten ourselves into," she muttered. Elijah did not laugh.

In minutes, the Company had found themselves each jobs to do. Bombur, Bofur, Bifur, and Ori were in charge with cooking. Dori, Nori, Oin, Balin and Bilbo had taken each of the Company's canteens of water and gone to the stream to have them refilled. Fili and Kili did nothing in particular, but had convinced Gloin and Dwalin to join them in singing a cheery song. Gandalf watched from the sidelines, smoking his pipe amusedly. As he kept his bedroll, Elijah listened with enthusiasm, and Fheon decided that they were close enough to the borders of the Shire for it to be safe from predators. There was daylight, after all.

Amidst the busy bustling of the dwarves, Fheon was able to discern a new pair of footsteps. She did not raise her head to acknowledge the arrival of Thorin, keeping her eyes trained on Bombur's hands as he skillfully skinned the quails she had killed; he was already done with two. Ori somehow procured a pan, and Bofur returned in his seat with a pile of twigs in his arms. Bifur grunted something to Bofur, and Bofur called out for some water. Elijah offered his immediately and tossed his canteen to the dwarf, who caught it easily and poured some of the liquid onto the pan. Bofur placed the twigs into their still-warm fire pit and lit it. Ori placed the pan onto the fire. Judging from the amount of water on the pan, Fheon suspected they were not going to make quail stew.

"We will eat on the road," said Thorin.

"Aye," everyone said in reply, before returning to their business. Elijah tapped Fheon's arm, and she turned to find him walking towards Gandalf.

"Oi, Gandalf," he softly called.

The wizard bumbled to himself for a moment before raising his eyes to look at Elijah. "What is it, my boy?"

"Oh hum, you aren't that old," Elijah said imperturbably. "But I came to ask: what exactly do you want us to do? You mentioned something about us being 'scouts' last night, and I couldn't help but to wonder if we're supposed to spy on someone, or look for something, or—?"

"All you have to do is merely run ahead of the Company," Gandalf calmly replied. "If there is danger ahead, you will warn us. If there is not, then you will wait on your spot until we reach you."

Elijah smiled. "Lovely." He faced Fheon. "We'll take turns scouting, then?"

She sighed, feigning misery. "Seeing as Thorin didn't bring any extra ponies for us, then yes. We'll be going on foot from here on in, I suppose." She had meant for the Dwarf King to hear her words, and he did. But if he was affected by them, he did not show it. He merely met Fheon's gaze for a long moment, before looking away.

"Food's ready!" Bofur called, and was met with many of the dwarves' shouts of excitement. Fheon craned her neck and was surprised to find more than three cooked quails' parts in the pan. There must have been a turkey in there as well, and to her, it was already a lot of food for thirteen dwarves. But apparently, she was wrong.

"Is this all?" Kili asked, looking down at the single turkey leg he had been given in distaste.

"I thought we had more than this!" came his brother's similar catcall.

Bofur gestured to Fheon and said, "Aye, the lass only brought back three quails. Not even a turkey! Could you believe it?"

Mutters of discontentment rumbled through the dwarves, and from the corner of her eye, she could see Elijah's and Gandalf's shoulders trembling as they laughed. Standing at the other side of the clearing was Thorin; the corners of his eyes were crinkled in amusement. And Fheon, though unhappy with being embarrassed, hid it well and raised an eyebrow at the Company, saying, "I suppose I'll have to bring back a whole deer next time, then."

Ori looked over at her and said, "Be better if you bring back three."

Aghast, Fheon turned to look at her brother, and found his face completely lit up in amusement. And seeing this, she could not help but to manage a small smile.

When Dori was finished washing the pan in the stream, Thorin said, "Let us be off," to which the Company answered with resounding "Aye"s.

"If they don't plan on getting ambushed by wolves, we better hope they aren't this noisy during supper," Fheon muttered to her brother, who hummed seriously in agreement. As the dwarves and hobbit mounted their ponies, and Gandalf mounted his horse, the siblings took to stand ahead of the Company, even in front of Thorin.

Seeing that everyone was in place, Elijah turned to Fheon. "I'll go first," he said, before ruffling her hair and jogging off.

"He is going the right way, isn't he?" Fheon asked Thorin out of pure worry.

"He is," the dwarf replied.

"The way is just straight on from here?"

"I'll tell you beforehand which turns to make."

She nodded in acknowledgement and then, noticing the strand of hair that had strayed across her eye, undid her braid so she could redo it. Thorin spurred his horse and they ventured forth, Fheon straying behind slightly as she did not want to walk beside the Dwarf King. Her contempt for his self-satisfaction the previous night was still apparent, though she thought it best that she did not show it.

Apart from the occasional guffaws coming from Fili and Kili, and random skirmishes that broke out amongst the dwarves, there wasn't much conversation to go with. At the very back of the group, Bilbo was holding his own with Gandalf. But the rest were quiet, as was Thorin. Which was why Fheon was quite surprised when, about fifteen minutes into the hike, the King Under the Mountain spoke—specifically, to her.

"I must ask, Ranger," he said, and she was somewhat relieved that he did not use her name, "How old is your brother?"

It was an odd question, but one that had no risks when answered. "34 years of age," she replied simply.

"And you?"

"31."

He nodded. "I was impressed to see how skilled you were with a bow this morning," he said, but the admiration was not clear. Fheon doubted if there was any in the first place. "I do hope you know how to use it in a battle."

Hearing this, Fheon did her best to sound uncaring. "You needn't worry then, master dwarf. I can hold my own in a battle just fine."

That was when Elijah's lean figure came into view. He was leaning against a tree, seeming to have been expecting them for quite some time. When he saw them, a smile inched its way up his cheek, and he jogged towards Fheon. "Job's quite boring, really," he stated. "Best find a way of entertaining yourself. The wait's dreadful."

"As expected," Fheon said quietly, and then looked at the spot he had run from. "That's as far as you got? Honestly, brother, I thought you were better than that."

He raised an eyebrow. "Would you care to try then?"

"It is my turn to scout, isn't it?" Fheon ran a heavy hand across his scalp, payback, before turning around and jogging forward a few steps.

"It was a joke, Fheon!" she heard Elijah say, a slightly panicked edge in his voice.

She turned around and stared at him blankly. "I know. I won't go too far."

She started jogging faster, focusing on her breathing as the grass crunched beneath her feet. The familiar heat of adrenaline found its way into her veins, something she had missed. Yet all too soon, pain started clawing at her chest. Her lungs heaved, her heart beat erratically, and her footfalls turned heavy. She stopped running the moment her foot lost balance, causing her to lean against a trunk of a tree for support. She fought for breath, stretching her shoulders and back, but smiled anyway.

When her breathing was once more normal, she crossed her arms and resumed Elijah's position before, tilting her head but keeping her ears perked, as she waited for the Company to come into view.

And so they established a daily routine. In the mornings and afternoons and nighttime, either Fheon or Elijah went hunting for game—occasionally together if the older of the two would not wake up. They and the Company would eat on the road—occasionally on the ground—and there would be light banter, but never heavy. When faced with mountain paths, Thorin and Gandalf would instruct the Ranger on which turns to make, and which not to. Elijah would always scout first, and during her time at the head of the group with Thorin, she did not speak to him unless she needed to. She knew he felt the same way.

The days rolled by.

A week in, Thorin stated that it was time for the nightly watches to begin. However, one night would never take up the whole Company's cooperation; only perhaps four or five of them. So each night, the one who had stayed on watch the previous night would not volunteer to watch again. Except for Elijah and Fheon. They always volunteered.

Three weeks in, Fheon was on scout duty, and she noticed their hawk Caligula sitting atop a tree, looking down at her. She cupped her hands together and brought them to her lips and blew, and the hawk flew away.

She stared after her, wondering where she was going, or whether other journeyers would spot her flying predatorily in the sky.

feel free to leave a review, love. ^^