{AN: First of all, huge thank-you to all that reviewed chapter two- VampWolf92, AppoloniaAstria and ZabuzasGirl. Also, thank-yous to those who have favourite and alerted this. It means a great deal, truly.
Also, a reminder that there may be mistakes along the way. Feel entirely free to correct me if you wish, I won't mind.
The Company of An Elf.
It was dark, mid-evening, when the company stopped for the night. They had climbed a rather steep incline to get to some form of definite safety— from what, however, the Hobbit with them did not know. The Dwarves all sat, with their backs against the rock of a small cave, some smoking, others already snoring. Ulren had moved away from them, happy to get, for herself, some peace. The ride had been loud, and filled with quite odd conversations, and part way through, the Elf had found herself more than glad for having the company of Bilbo and Gandalf; they offered some calm in the utter blitz that was the Dwarves' company.
So, at that moment, she sat around a slight corner, her back against the cool stone, her legs laid out in front of her, against the slightly damp grass she had settled herself, and her horse. Talagor, or fastfoot in the common tongue, was away from the other ponies, as if he had sensed her disagreement, her unease, and he now stood silently by her, occasionally sighing in the cool air, causing the Elf's hair to become displaced every now and then. Not that she cared for such a thing, no. In fact, she found herself thinking of home, of Greenwood; its tall trees and bright glades. That was how she had chosen to remember it, anyway. Even after Gandalf's warnings of change in the forests; dark creatures lurking, grey mist rolling in. It was horrible to think of such a cruel-sounding place as home, and so, she had simply 'forgotten' the Wise Wizard's words, and continued to remember it just as she desired so.
It was then, just as she made to shut her eyes and rest her thoughts, that a sound was carried through the air, one that made her and the rest of the company tense. It was one many of them recognised; a strangled sound of a cruel nature. Intense in the bitter night air. Talagor perked his head up and whinnied, making Ulren stand and wrap an arm around his neck. She hushed with a few quiet words near his ear, though did not move apart from that. Briefly, she wondered just how bright the Dwarves' fire had become. Could they have been spotted? About to be ambushed by an Orc pack in the dead of Night? The thought made her blink quickly, before taking a gentle hold of Talagor's reins. She led him quietly around the corner, just as Thorin stood and moved quickly away. Ulren moved her gaze swiftly from Gandalf to each of the Dwarves. Some had stirred, others had not woken properly, but it was Kili and Fili that her eyes strayed to for the longest. Kili had shrunken back, against the rock behind him, knees drawn closer to his torso, but she did not say anything.
She still listened out into the now still air, her keen hearing trying to pick up on any sound; a growl, a quick step. She heard nothing, and relaxed her shoulders a little, though her lips remained in a thin line. The Grey horse beside her, however, stood impatiently, knocking her shoulder once before turning away and back whence they had came, apparently deeming it safe enough to return to their spot. She quirked a brow in Gandalf's direction, who nodded once with only the smallest hint of a smile, before going back to smoking his pipe. Soon after, Ulren followed her horse. Not wishing to be a part of the next story that was to be told; it was the Dwarves' and theirs only.
"Áva sorya, Talagor." She whispered. With one final pat, she took to removing the horse's bridle, gentle peeling the bit from his mouth and placing it neatly in the grass beside her. "A hauta." She kissed his nose before settling down herself.
It was not too long before she heard the heavy, and rather clumsy sounding footfalls coming toward her. Ulren opened one eye and looked to the side, mustering the kindest smile that she could when faced with a young Dwarf. Ori, she believed him to be called.
"Yes?"
He shuffled on his feet, wringing his hands for a moment in front of him, before he stopped and stood tall.
"Will you not come by the fire?"
She dared not stand, not truly wishing to look down upon him. Slowly, she shook her head.
"I think not, Master Dwarf." She tugged an almost genuine smile, as though not uncomfortable with his company, "'Tis not too cold, anyway. Thank-you."
For a moment, both were silent, each of each other's gazes drifting away, unsure of as to what to do for a moment or two, before Ori bowed his head and moved off.
Once again, she shut her eyes, intending to spend at least a moment in the dark, in peace, before having to venture again the next day. However, a gruff voice broke said peace soon after she had settled once more.
"Being sociable would not hurt you, my dear."
She titled her head and looked up at him as he leaned against his staff with on hand, the other resting on Talagor's back.
"I am sociable." She countered, "During the daytime, at least… During the evenings, however, I like my peace, Gandalf the Grey." She feigned an almost scolding voice, causing him to chuckle, almost to himself.
"As do I."
"Then, seek some solitude for yourself and do not take mine from me." She turned to face the dark view once more, her expression remaining passive still, "Why do you not seek solitude?"
Gandalf watched her for a small moment, before steadying himself against his staff once more.
"My dear, we are part of a company—"
"Of Dwarves." She interrupted, her voice remaining low, almost soft, "One of which, especially, does not seem to enjoy looking at me in the sunlight, let alone the moonlight. Can I not give him peace from my antics at this time?" She finished with a wryly smile, knowing and understanding the point the Wizard was trying to make. She sighed, "One Elf amongst a host of Dwarves will do nothing, Friend. And I think you know that, do you not?"
"…Perhaps. Though, if you would simply—"
"Ván, Gandalf." She answered quickly: I won't, and then softer, "Ván."
He nodded swiftly, apparently seeing the unease appear within her gaze at the thought of joining the Dwarves with their fire. She did not sense belonging, and he wondered if she would at all.
{AN: Alas, I have just come back from seeing the film for the second time and it appeared to re-spark my muse. I'm not too sure about the last bit of this chapter, your thoughts would be very much appreciated.
Thank-you for reading.
Translations:
"Áva sorya, Talagor."— Don't dread, Talagor.
"A hauta."—Rest.
