WARNING: THIS CHAPTER IS HELLA SHORT AND HELLA FILLER. I TAKE BACK WHAT I SAID BEFORE. IT'S ACTUALLY VERY BORING. So I apologise in advance. I know it sucks. But if it helps any, the next chapter has a small amount of action in it. ^^
All rights go to JRR Tolkien and Peter Jackson; except with Fheon and Elijah (and other OC's). They're mine. They're resting up.
When she awoke again, it was to Elijah slapping her cheek… again. She blinked open her bleary eyes, not even having the energy to be annoyed with him. Over his shoulder, she was able to make out the small form of Bilbo, looking down at her with worried eyes. She discerned the feeling of stable ground beneath her figure, no longer the constant weightlessness that she felt while the eagle was carrying her in its talons. The sensation felt new to her, which caused her to wonder how long they had been flying.
"We've landed," she was able to croak out, but may have confused her brother when her voice curved in the final syllable, making it sound like a question. But he said nothing, and neither did Bilbo, only stepping back to give her space. She regarded their expressions warily, and asked, "What is it?"
"I was getting worried," Elijah answered quietly, and just when she was about to ask why he was looking so glum, a smile broke across his face. "You've been out for the whole day, didn't you know?"
"Only because we've been flying for a whole day," she murmured in reply. She held a hand out to him, and he helped her up into a sitting position. She winced at the sudden pain that erupted from her chest; not in just one spot, but in multiple. She guessed it must have been from the White Warg's teeth digging into her skin. And then she remembered who else had been inflicted with such an injury. "Thorin?" she said, voice laced with concern.
Bilbo raised his head and looked at something over her shoulder. Elijah's features smoothened into a serious expression once more, before he mimicked the gesture. Frowning, Fheon supported herself on the heel of her right hand as she turned around, almost just looking over her shoulder. There Thorin lay, on the ground of the stony eyot they had landed on, with his eyes closed and his sword at his side. Gandalf knelt beside him. His hand hovered over the dwarf's face as he murmured words too low for Fheon to hear. Or she simply did not have the strength to focus enough to actually hone her hearing.
It was a minute in, with her and the rest of the Company just staring at Gandalf's hand as he continued muttering what Fheon assumed was a spell; the severity of the situation had only just started weighing down on her, that there was a possibility their leader would not rise from his slumber, when Thorin's eyes fluttered open. A sigh escaped Gandalf's lips, and he rocked back on his heels, looking down at the dwarf with relief. Fheon looked away from them, wanting to lie back down and sleep again. And she was just about to, holding her arm out to Elijah so he could help her onto her back, but he misread her intentions and instead helped her onto her feet.
She groaned as the familiar ache returned to her limbs. From the corner of her eye, she saw Bilbo flit away closer to Thorin, no doubt sharing in the great reprieve of the dwarves. Elijah gripped Fheon's hand, with an arm around her waist as the dwarves helped Thorin onto his feet. The satisfaction that had started to creep through Fheon was quickly distinguished when the Dwarf King all but shoved his nephews off him, looking at Bilbo with fiery eyes. "You!" he said. "What were you doing? You nearly got yourself killed! Did I not say that you would be a burden? That you would not survive in the wild? That you had no place amongst us?" Bilbo could not meet his eyes; his hands, which were balled into fists at his sides, trembled. Fheon shook her head at Thorin in disapproval, too tired to say anything. But then—"I have never been so wrong in all my life."
The corners of her lips already pulling up in a smile, Fheon raised her head slowly and saw Bilbo captured in Thorin's embrace. The hobbit was stiff for a moment, before he gained the courage to wrap his arms around the dwarf. Thorin's smile widened. Behind them, the dwarves cheered in approval.
Once the two pulled away, Thorin had the first word. He said, "But I'm sorry I doubted you."
"No, I would have doubted me too," said Bilbo, shaking his head. Elijah chuckled lightly. "I'm not a hero, or a warrior… not even a burglar." At this, Bilbo shared a look with Gandalf, who smiled.
When it seemed as though the earnest exchange was over, Fheon peeled her brother's arm off her waist, grimacing when pain lanced up her neck just because she had lowered her left shoulder. A hiss escaped through her teeth, and Thorin's gaze switched to her. "You were there," he said, "with Bilbo. You helped him."
"Yes," said Fheon.
"Thank you, Fheon." And that was one of the few times he ever used her name. "Not just for protecting our burglar from Azog, but for protecting my kin as well—for months, now. I know it is no easy task, and for that, you have my deepest gratitude."
Elijah grinned, saying, "It is what we got hired for. But please, no hugs needed." Thorin actually cracked a smile at this, but then his attention was caught by something overhead. Bilbo turned, and so did Fheon and Elijah. They were welcomed with the sight of The Lonely Mountain, so close yet seeming so far. With the background of dawn, it almost looked beautiful—except Fheon knew what was waiting inside, and how difficult the journey to it would be.
"Is that what I think it is?" said Bilbo, to which Gandalf nodded.
"Erebor, the Lonely Mountain," he said, "the last of the great dwarf kingdoms of Middle-earth."
"Our home," Thorin concluded breathlessly.
A bird chirped to their right, followed by a familiar caw. "A raven!" said Oin, pertaining to the black bird that had flown by, which was not Caligula. "The birds returning to the mountain."
Elijah called Cali over to him, and then stroked the bird's wing with his finger. "Wonderful work on saving His Majesty, Cali," he said. "Keep it up."
"That, my dear Oin, is a thrush," Gandalf corrected gently.
"But we'll take it as a sign," said Thorin. "A good omen."
"You're right," Bilbo agreed giddily. "I do think the worst is behind us."
As Cali was flying away again, Fheon sighed and regarded the hobbit with a raised eyebrow. "Don't speak too soon, master Baggins," she said wearily. "You may have forgotten, but there is a dragon in there somewhere, drawing breath."
Bilbo's optimistic eyes turned fearful, and she threw him a half-smirk before turning around. Her brother looked at her with eyes as wide as his smile, and she muttered to him, "One. Time."
It was very unfortunate, but their long-deserved rest at the top of the stony eyot was not very fitful. Thorin had hoped that the giant eagles would watch over the Company, if only for a few hours, but they did not stay. The eagles had flown away as soon as they dropped off the dwarves. It was in Thorin's wishes to keep moving, but he could see the state that his Company was in, and so he was forced to make them lay down camp at the top of the eyot. Gandalf reassured him that Azog would not give chase so recklessly, after losing more than half of his legion. The wizard's words offered Fheon no comfort.
She had been the only one who was left with her bag, because she was the only one who hadn't been looted by the goblins. Looking back, she could not fathom how she had remained standing for so lc vong with such weight on her back. But seeing the dwarves lying on their backs with nothing else between them and the cold stone of the eyot's top, she could not bring herself to use her bedroll. As she was rolling up her cloak, Elijah clicked his tongue at her disapprovingly before unfolding her bedroll again. "No, no, no," he said. "You're not sleeping on the cold, hard ground tonight like the rest of us men."
"I thought we made a deal you wouldn't be treating me as the girl of the Company," Fheon said in a hushed tone, for she knew that some of the dwarves had already dozed off. She glared at her brother half-heartedly, grabbing her bedroll from him. And she was only brought further to impatience when he snatched it back.
"I'm not treating you like the girl," he corrected sternly, quickly unrolling her bedroll before she could stop him again. "I'm treating you like the person who just saved fifteen people from a horrible fate handed down by Azog… not counting Gandalf, of course."
She scoffed. "Saved."
"Yes, saved."
Elijah took her cloak from her hands and laid it down at the top bit of the bedroll. Looking down at it, Fheon felt so eager to sleep again, despite her long rest aboard the giant eagle. But as she positioned herself to lie down on the soft material of the bedroll, she was reminded of the sting in her left shoulder. Hissing, she unbuckled the clasps of her belt, untied the strings of her over-shirt and carefully slipped it off. Elijah watched her with concerned eyes as she slowly pulled the sleeve of her tunic up to the top of her shoulder, biting the inside of her lip when her finger grazed the swollen injury.
"How does it look?" Fheon asked, closing her eyes when the cold morning wind blew against the wound.
Her brother stood up, sighing quietly. "Well, there's no blood."
"That's good."
"But it's bruised and about as swollen as an apple."
"Hurts like hell." Fheon groaned and raised her head when Elijah sat back down beside her, with what looked to be a bunch of flower heads in his hand. "What's that?" she asked.
"Chamomile," he said, "for the pain."
He rubbed the heads together between his hands, crushing them into a fine powder, and then spat on them. Fheon wrinkled her nose but let him be. The powder turned into a gel of some sort after he rubbed it together again, and then he started rubbing the balm onto her shoulder. For a while, there was nothing but an irritating itch, gifted by the leaf particles—but then a cool sensation spread forth from where Elijah was rubbing, and it was enough to at least slightly mask the pain. Fheon sighed in relief.
"Chiles would be better," she commented softly, eyes fluttering open.
Elijah smiled. "What else hurts?"
"Unless you expect me to get undressed in front of you, no." She found him pulling more of the chamomile flower heads from his pocket, and stopped him. "You should attend to the rest of the Company, Elijah. They have gained their fair share of injuries as well."
"Not as much as you—"
"The Company goes first, remember? But seeing as the rest of them are sleeping, however…" She narrowed her eyes at Elijah pointedly. "Go see to Thorin. He is sure to be with Balin at this time, if not Gandalf." Elijah stared at her as if she was mad, and she raised an eyebrow. "Surely you saw the blows Azog inflicted on him. He had it worse than me." Her brother's steel gaze wavered slightly; she softened her gaze. "If it'll make you feel better, hand me an extra bunch and grab another handful for Thorin. I'll attend my wounds on my own."
He slipped the remaining flower heads into her palm and then, slowly but surely, stood up and walked to the bush at the edge of the eyot-top. When he was finished fishing for more of the herbal heads, he walked by Fheon again, grumbling, "Who's the older one here again? Oh yes, me."
Chuckling, Fheon moved around on her bedroll slightly, trying to assess what other injuries she had gained. Apart from the usual muscle pains in her limbs, there was nothing else that proved to be an immediate priority apart from her left shoulder. Eager to sleep, she gingerly pulled her right sleeve up and started crumbling the handful of chamomile heads between her hands; she spat on them, and rubbed the salve on the upper part of her right arm. But doing so, she had to bring her right arm closer so she did not have to stretch her shoulder too far. From the corner of her eye, she saw Elijah walking back towards her.
"I think they're starting to like us," he said as he laid himself down on the ground, ready to sleep.
"It's only been ten-and-a-half months," Fheon remarked amusedly.
She kept both her sleeves up to her neck to prolong the cooling sensation of the chamomile balm, and laid her head down on the warm softness of her cloak. A soft sigh escaped her lips and her eyes fluttered closed.
"Good night, sister," said Elijah, but Fheon did not reply, for she was already asleep.
Aren't Elijah and Fheon so cute though aogshfoihecorit
Review pleeease! :D
P.S. I changed my mind. Next chapter comes up right after this! Love you guys! Keep the reviews coming! xoxo