ALL RIGHTS GO TO JRR TOLKIEN AND PETER JACKSON. EXCEPT FOR FHEON AND ELIJAH. Poor babies.. They're exhausted.
"Are you sure you're alright?"
Fheon swatted her brother's hand away with a sigh. "Yes, I'm fine, Elijah."
"That troll looked to be holding you rather tightly," he continued, moving her arms here and there. "There aren't any broken bones or anything, right? No sprains or bruises—"
"I said I'm fine," she hissed, losing her patience and slapping the top of his hand, making him recoil. "I landed on the grass, not on a bloody spiked table." A frown made its way onto his face, and it looked genuine. He looked legitimately hurt by what she'd said, and she would have believed him if it wasn't for the way his lower lip quivered. She gave his cheek a playful shove, and when he recovered, he was grinning. She smiled, adding, "And your horrendous braid did nothing to help, naturally."
He laughed. "I'll practice again tonight, don't worry."
Tonight… She remembered exactly what time of day it already was, and frowned. "I suppose we won't be getting any sleep until tonight, then."
"Aye." Elijah sighed, sharing in her despondency. They were the only two who had to travel on foot for the whole day.
Fheon knew that they would not have complained as such if they were allowed to ride horses as well. "Alas, we have to get the job done if we are to get paid and bring the gold back to Hiram, yes?"
Her brother grinned. "The things he would use that money for," he mused, making Fheon smile.
"The first thing he would buy is rum. Definitely."
"Before he purchases a fine dog, that is."
"And then a woman of his own."
"And then two more."
They deliberated on the possibilities for a while longer, considerably easing the muscle pains Fheon had all over her body. She pulled her hood back and undid the braid, much to her brother's feigned frustration. Opting to just simply pull her hair back with a normal tie, she glanced about and saw Thorin speaking with Gandalf. But he was also staring at her with a look in his eye that she could not decipher, which unnerved her greatly. She returned his gaze with a blank look, but was the first to look away. None too soon, apparently, for Elijah's joke about Hiram was interrupted by Gandalf walking over to them, the Dwarf King close behind him.
"Fheon, Elijah," said the wizard. "Did you happen to see a cave not far from here?"
Fheon shook her head, and Elijah replied, "Sad to say we did not, Gandalf. Why?"
"Mountain trolls do not venture this far south, my boy," said Gandalf. "They must have come down from the Ettenmoors, but couldn't have done so with daylight. They needed a path from the mountains to lead them here, a grotto of sorts."
As her brother shook his head again, Fheon's eyes flickered to the side and met Thorin's for the third time that morning. He raised an eyebrow, and a shadow of a smile crossed her face. Without looking away from him, she said, "I spotted a hollow a few ways west from here, just veering a little off from the path we took yesterday. That could be the one."
"We'll have to check," said Gandalf, and then, seeming to notice the way she and Thorin were still staring at each other, looked from one to the other before dismissing himself. Thorin followed not soon after, to tell Bilbo and the others what was about to happen. Fheon finally tore her gaze away from him to be met with her brother's sceptic eyes.
"Unless the two of you can somehow talk to each other mentally," he said, "No, I don't understand what just happened."
She smirked. "Call it His Majesty's temporary gratefulness."
Indeed, at the directions Fheon had stated, they found a large hole in the ground. Not like the hobbit holes which were found in The Shire, but a wide, dug-up hole oozing a foul smell that too closely resembled rotting animal flesh. The roots of the plants and trees above it could be seen hanging from above, like worms… or snakes. As Fheon held her breath and took the first step inside, she could see hundreds of stolen items left to decay in the ground: wheels, drums, jars… most of which were too deteriorated to identify. Elijah trailed closely behind his sister, taking in the sight with disgust. He and Fheon had their bows drawn, cautiously staring at the dark abyss that lay before them, for the tunnel did not end somewhere near from there. It travelled on and on and on—with Gandalf's assumption, all the way north to the Ettenmoors.
Fheon found two torches sitting amidst the pile of junk. They were decaying and brittle, but they would hold. They were not going to be used for long anyway. She presented them to Thorin, explaining, "We do not have oil."
"We will make do," he replied simply, handing one torch to Ori, and keeping the other for himself.
Fheon nodded just as Gandalf said, "It's a troll-hoard." (As if she did not know that already.) "Be careful what you touch."
Her eyes trailed over to where her brother was kneeling by a dusty skeleton, his hand straying far too close to the pendant on the skeleton's neck. He raised his head and, smiling innocently, pulled his hand back; resuming to walk about as if nothing had happened. Fheon admired the treasures in the cave from afar, not finding anything that particularly caught her interest; until her foot caught on something, nearly sending her tumbling down the darker part of the tunnel. Regaining her footing, she glanced down and saw a taut string penetrating through the thick sheet of dried leaves. Frowning, she leaned down and pulled it up, and was surprised to find that she had discovered the decayed remains of a bow.
It was a beautiful thing, with smoothly curved limbs and pointed tips. The grip was smooth, almost soft, but when Fheon gripped it in her hands, she found that it would not slip easily, even with sweaty palms. Yet she dared not pull the string back, afraid that the groove would break and destroy such a beauty. She positioned the bow by the wall, gently dusting off the dirt on its limbs before standing up again.
Suddenly, Gandalf appeared behind her. "It is an Elven bow," he said quietly. "But indeed, too far beyond repair. It would be best to leave it."
Fheon noticed the dusty sword in his free hand, but did not ask about it. Judging from its size alone, she could discern that he planned to give it to Bilbo. About time too, she thought. The hobbit needed a weapon of his own if he was going to protect himself from more mountain trolls. From the entrance, she heard Thorin ordering the Company to exit the tunnel. She returned to the daylight outside, watching from the corner of her eye as Gandalf approached Bilbo and as the two of them spoke in low tones. She had been so single-minded in listening in on the conversation that she nearly jumped out of her skin when a hand squeezed her shoulder.
"Thinking about something?" Elijah asked, stepping up to stand beside her.
"No," she said. "I think the exhaustion may be getting to me."
"If you can't take it anymore, just say the word and I'll throw Thorin off his pony and place you on the saddle myself."
She smiled half-heartedly. "Funny."
She was about to say more when a familiar red-tailed hawk swooped into her line of sight.
Caligula emitted a jarring screech, nearly making Fheon pass out in the process, and then disappeared once more behind the trees. Fheon glanced at her brother confusingly, only to find that he was just as clueless as her. The Company were staring after the hawk, mumbling amongst themselves about how she was going to give away their position, when Cali screeched again, though from a much farther place. This was followed by the rustling of leaves in the underbrush not very far from Thorin.
Alarmed, Fheon ordered Bilbo to unsheathe his sword, remembering Gandalf saying that it would glow blue when orcs or goblins were nearby. Yet when the hobbit unsheathed it, it remained silvery white.
The first that broke through the underbrush were two large, brown rabbits. They were followed by another pair, and then another, and then another—all tied to this flesh-toned sleigh that looked to be made out of tree bark. Riding on this sleigh was a hunched-over old man, who had a brown beard, wore brown robes, brown hat, and brown boots. He was shouting bloody murder but eventually brought his sleigh to a stop. It did not come as a surprise to Fheon when Gandalf knew this person, and when the name that escaped his mouth was the one she had been expecting as well.
"Radagast," the wizard exclaimed. "It's Radagast the Brown." Swiftly, Fheon returned the arrow she had instinctively nocked to her quiver, hearing Elijah behind her do the same. A second afterward, the dwarves sheathed their swords and dropped their axes to their sides.
Fheon turned her attention to the two wizards and found them speaking softly, almost as if they did not want anyone else to hear. But she did.
"I was looking for you, Gandalf," said Radagast. "Something's wrong. Something's terribly wrong."
A serious look crossed Gandalf's aged face. "Yes?"
Radagast opened his mouth, holding up a finger, but then said nothing. He brandished his finger, saying, "Oh!" and then slunk back into an expression of deep thought. "Just give me a minute," he mumbled. A memory crossed Fheon's mind, one of Bilbo asking about the Brown Wizard and asking if he was a 'great wizard' or if he was more like Gandalf. Fheon regarded the eight brown rabbits sniffing at the air and tied to a wooden sleigh, which was bound together by vines; she concluded that Radagast was neither a great wizard nor like Gandalf. He was simply… different.
"Oh," said Radagast. "I had a thought and now I've lost it! It was right there on the tip of my tongue!" He frowned, and then curved his tongue as he spoke his next words. "Oh, it's not a thought at all. It's a silly old stick insect!" Gandalf removed the stick insect from Radagast's mouth and placed it onto the other wizard's palm.
A quiet, peculiar sound escaped Bilbo's throat, nearly making Fheon break out in laughter.
Gandalf requested to speak alone with Radagast, stating that their conversation would have nothing to do with the quest for Erebor. Thorin was reluctant to agree, and Fheon even more so, but she put her temptation to rest by sitting on a log as far away from the two wizards as could be. She distracted herself as best as she could, counting how many arrows she had left before borrowing a whetstone from Fili and beginning to sharpen her sword—for she had been right about the troll skin being thick, causing the edges to blunt.
For a while, she concentrated on returning her sword back to perfect condition. Beside her, Elijah kept a jumpy Cali on his thigh, placing the ends of his cloak beneath her feet for added protection. She had been restless the whole time they sat there, giving out the occasional wail, even when Elijah was stroking her feathers. She clawed at his leg continuously until such a time came when he was forced to let her fly again. She let out another screech before disappearing past the tree line. Elijah stared after her, frowning.
"I wonder what's wrong with her—"
He was cut off by a spine-tingling howl that effortlessly rippled through the clearing.
Fheon was on her feet in a millisecond. She dropped Fili's whetstone onto the ground and left it there, forgetting about it the same moment she sheathed her sword. She drew her bow and followed Elijah to stand by the already-armed dwarves. The Rangers were the only ones who had the idea of standing together, it seemed; for the dwarves remained scattered about the clearing, glancing about with their weapons in hand.
Urgently, Fheon pressed Bilbo to stand behind her and her brother. He did not argue, but only said in an alarmed tone, "Wolves? Are there wolves out there?"
"Wolves?" quietly said Bofur. "No, that is not a wolf."
A low growling sound registered above and behind them.
"Elijah!" Fheon shouted. He responded instantly by whirling around and releasing his arrow into a warg that had been looming on the cliffside above them. It yelped, snapping its jaws, but even a shot in the eye had not been able to kill it. The warg fell into the clearing. Fheon had to pull Bilbo aside so he would not be crushed beneath the creature's weight. The dwarves axed the fallen warg, yet their blades did not penetrate through the skin quickly enough. Another warg appeared behind Thorin, who was still struggling to tug his sword out of the first warg's fur. He glanced behind him, yelling for Kili to get his bow. Fheon was faster. She shot an arrow into its eye, sending it tumbling into the clearing. Dwalin finished it off with a blow to the head with his axe. The animal stilled.
"Warg scouts," said Thorin, finally being able to pull his blade out, "which means an Orc pack is not far behind." Fheon followed her brother to the wargs' corpses, but their arrows were not retrievable.
"Orc pack?" said Bilbo, sounding more astonished than afraid.
"Who did you tell about your quest beyond your kin?" Gandalf demanded, stepping up to Thorin.
"No one," the dwarf replied.
"Who did you tell?"
"No one, I swear!" He turned and met the eyes of everyone else—"What in Durin's name is going on?"—before finally meeting Fheon's.
Still kneeling by the lifeless warg, she stated, "You are being hunted."
"We have to get out of here," said Dwalin.
"We can't!" said Ori. Fheon had not noticed that he hadn't been in the clearing with them until that moment. She raised her head and found him sliding down the small hill to their right, alongside Bifur. "We have no ponies. They bolted!"
A chorus of barks, followed by several more warg howls, echoed in the distance, though not far enough to reassure Fheon. She straightened as Radagast said (in a rather bold tone), "I'll draw them off."
"These are Gundabad Wargs," Gandalf said in dismissal. "They will outrun you."
"And these are Rhosgobel Rabbits," Radagast retorted, pointing over his shoulder to the series of brown-furred animals tapping their large feet on the ground. He garnered a brave look. "I'd like to see them try."
"We don't have time for this," Fheon snapped. "Radagast will draw them off. Gandalf, do you have an escape route in mind?"
"No."
Bilbo and the dwarves let out exasperations. Fheon scowled. "Fine, you will still lead the way. But we cannot stay here. Radagast, lead them out as far as you can. We will run in a group, as far as the other side if Rhudaur if we must."
"Let us only hope that it won't be necessary," grimly added Gandalf.
Radagast once again mounted his sleigh and was off in seconds, disappearing behind the underbrush. The dwarves filed themselves in a pack, with Gandalf at the head and Thorin leading in the back. Fheon and Elijah stood close to Gandalf, bows drawn, with Bilbo behind them. When the wargs' movement was as far as it could go, Gandalf led them out of the tree-line and into the open field beyond. They ran to a rock jutting out of the ground; there were several of these, and they recognized these as beneficiary for their deadly journey across the pasture.
Feral warg noises came in from behind them, and Fheon sensed them getting closer. So did her brother, and so did Gandalf. The wizard halted beside a boulder. They watched the warg pack run past them a few miles out, chasing Radagast. Fheon narrowed her eyes at their Orc riders. A feeling of malice gathered in her stomach.
"Move," Gandalf muttered. "Move!"
They turned back and began running the opposite direction, and this was when Fheon realized that they would not be finding refuge in the woods again very soon. They had no chance of running straight ahead to the forests by Hollin. In minutes, their single-file group had broken apart, the organized-air of it all being lost to chaos and panic. As they were passing by a large boulder, Elijah stopped Fheon from running out further, therefore stopping the entire Company. She saw why: Radagast and the warg pack were running past them, over the hill, once more. One dwarf stumbled past her and her hand shot out to grab his pack, just in time—barely.
"Get back," she hissed, seeing that it was Ori, a fear-stricken look on his face. She returned him to the dwarves, hoping that they could offer him some sort of safety.
As Gandalf issued the Company past him and to the next boulder ahead of them, Elijah muttered to the dwarves shooting past, "Stay together." Fheon ran up from beside him to the front of the Company—seeing that they only had Kili as an archer—which left Gandalf, Thorin, and her brother to guard the back. She ran for the nearest sarsen overhead. Seeing that the warg pack was still far enough, she decided to stop them by the farther pillar instead—which was, as it happened, a coincidentally good idea.
Only seconds after she had stopped the dwarves beneath the pillar, she heard the unmistakable growl of a warg. Peeking out from the rock, she saw that it was above them. She heard the subtle sound of a bow being drawn and glanced beside her to see Kili looking at her expectantly. She pointed at herself and mouthed, Orc. He mouthed, Warg. At an agreement, Fheon drew her bow, whispering beneath her breath. "One, two—THREE."
They sprung from their positions beneath the cover of their rock. Fheon took a moment to aim at the orc's forehead before releasing her arrow. The orc fell from atop the boulder, followed by the warg. She saw Kili's green arrows sprouting from its shoulder, and cursed. The warg regained its footing, snapping its jaws violently. Gloin, Dwalin, Oin, and Bifur surged forward, hacking at the animal. It released ear-piercing yelps and yaps, which echoed all across the field.
As soon as the warg stopped moving, she pulled the four dwarves back and shouted to the others, "Go! Run!" She glanced over her shoulder and yelled for Gandalf, checking that Elijah was in one piece before running after the Company. Warg howls and Black Speech reverberated all around them, and Fheon was positive that the pack had honed in on their location.
"There they are!" Gloin yelled, pointing overhead to three or four wargs running in their direction. Yet Fheon was sure that the entirety of the pack was behind them.
Gandalf ran up from behind her and pointed to their left. "This way!" he said. "Quickly!"
They followed him down a shallow valley, which unfortunately did not shield them from the eyes of the orcs. Fheon stopped at the sight of four wargs waiting a few miles ahead, only turning to find three more closing in behind them. "There's more coming!" Kili yelled from their right. Behind him, half a dozen wargs ran into view.
"SHOOT THEM!" she shouted, pulling Bilbo back and stepping forward in his place. She shot volleys of arrows into the wargs south of the Company, quickly emptying her quiver. It took at least three arrows to kill off a single warg, and then another for the Orc—that was if she did not miss. Behind her and to her left, Elijah and Kili were doing the same. The dwarves had formed a semi-circle, standing ready with their weapons.
"We're surrounded!" Fili yelled. Fheon killed another orc.
"Where's Gandalf?" Dori demanded, running to take arms beside Nori.
"He's abandoned us," said Dwalin. Fheon used another four arrows to down one of the larger wargs.
Beside her, Nori used his slingshot to hit a warg that was close enough in the eye. The warg shook its head, annoyed but unfazed; it growled. Its rider emitted a dreadful noise from the back of his throat, baring his teeth in what must have been a sneer.
Scowling, Fheon drew her bow and shot her arrow in-between the orc's eyes. He fell from his warg. Fheon reached into her quiver again, about to finish off the warg as well. Her confidence dissipated when she felt that she had no more arrows. Wildly, she looked to her brother, but found that he was too far away. She cursed herself for not stuffing her quiver fully, like he had. Scowling, she slipped her bow over her shoulder and unsheathed her short sword. She quickly took her place amongst the dwarves, joining their circle as the warg pack closed in on them.
As she glared a warg down and brandished her sword, a sound of rocks rubbing together came from behind them, followed by Gandalf's voice: "This way, you fools!" Fheon looked over her shoulder and found him standing within a bed of rocks jutting out of the ground. His lower body could not be seen, almost as if there was an opening beneath him…
She pushed the dwarves who were beside her back, not caring who they were. They ran for Gandalf and she, knowing a sword such as hers would not be effective against a warg, whirled around and thundered after them. Thorin stood above the entrance, filing in his kin first. He better be counting, Fheon thought. When all the dwarves were inside the opening—save Thorin—Fheon glanced down. She was about to jump in when she noticed that her brother was not inside. She heard the sound of an arrow being released and turned around to find Elijah still out in the open.
"ELIJAH!" she screamed. He sprinted towards her, wildly gesturing for her to slip into the entrance. Behind him, Fheon saw the warg pack racing down the hill.
"GO, FHEON!" Elijah yelled, and this time she did as he asked. She jumped onto the opening-rock and slid down the expanse of it, ignoring the burning sensation it caused on her back.
She scrambled to her feet and waited underneath the entrance, staring upwards. She called for her brother once, and then twice; and she was about to do so a third time when the light coming from above was blocked out by Elijah's form. He slid down the shaft, closely followed by Thorin, making it so that they all but landed on top of each other.
Fheon sighed in relief, seeing her brother unharmed and in one piece. She helped him up, and he was barely on his feet when she smiled and said, "No broken bones? No sprains or bruises?"
"Very funny." He grinned and brushed himself off, before looking to the dwarves—actually, to one dwarf in particular. "Thank you," he said to Thorin, "for waiting for me."
The King Under the Mountain nodded at Elijah, and then looked to Fheon. Biting the inside of her cheek, she echoed, "Thank you," though in a much more silent tone.
A ghost of a smile crossed his face, but he turned away too soon. She was not able to see whether the smirk was real or not.
we go to Rivendell in the next chapter! ^^
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