Disclaimer: I only own the OCs. All rights remain with their proper owners.
So this chapter was inspired by a well beloved song. Can anyone tell me the name and the band? And yes, except for the main part of the refrain, I made up the song.
Chapter 6: Five Hundred Miles
Bellissima opened her eyes with no grogginess or pain. Groaning, and squinting in the morning light, she realized that the dawning sun had just barely climbed over the horizon, spilling pink and purple blood all over the land. Grinning she ran her left hand through her curls, lifting her face up to soak up the rays. The light danced on her face and tickled her skin with its warmth.
"Good morning, periannath."
Slowly, she turned her head to see Kiera standing before her. The elf's arms bore a large bundle of twigs and wood, but not a single piece of her clothes showed any sign of the majestic creature having scavenged for them. Kiera's green tunic was flat pressed, and without a single wrinkle. Her leggings looked fluffy and wooly, while her boots looked almost spotless save for a small speck of grime at the front of the toe. As for her hair, the elf's dark auburn locks swirled up above her neck in what seemed to be a bun with several complex braids twisting into the center.
Bellissima almost snorted. Elves.
"Do you mean to say that it is a good morning, or a morning to be good on? Or perhaps that things are good this morning?"
Kiera gave her a small grin. "I see that you know Mithrandir well."
"A bit too well, after our journey." Bellissima grinned.
Kiera sat down, the wood still piled on her lap.
"What is the Great Wizard like?"
The hobbit choked on a laugh. "The Great Wizard? I do think you mean the Grey Wizard."
The elf frowned. "I meant what I said, periannath. Mithrandir is second to Saruman and that is the truth—his magic cannot be surpassed except for that of the White Wizard. You should know that you were fortunate to be a companion with such a great man."
"Gandalf…is he really that well known among the elves?"
"Very well indeed; lord Elrond often speaks of his great friend when telling his stories. The rest of us are so lucky to hear them. Once, after a hunt my sister and I were so privileged to hear the Grey Wizard himself. His voice merry and yet his words as heavy as thunder—so joyous and yet so burdened. A magnificent person indeed." Kiera murmured wistfully.
Bellissima hummed in agreement. "I suppose his stories are fine, but they're nothing like his whizzpoppers."
Kiera scrunched her nose up and looked at Bellissima with distaste.
"Whizzpoppers?"
"His fireworks." She laughed softly, wincing a bit as she moved her shoulder. The pain was coming back. "Gandalf makes excellent fireworks."
The elf cocked her slender brow.
"Oh well, let me tell you," the hobbit grinned. "When I was about yea high, not even to my calve—my grandfather, Gerontius Took, threw a great big party. It was quite the buzz in Hobbiton. Many of us hobbits gathered around to see the spectacular that the old Took was going to treat us with. Imagine our surprise when the lot of them saw the great big man standing there carrying crates of fireworks."
"Were you not surprised?" Kiera asked suspiciously.
Bellissima gave her a mischievous grin. "I was five. I attacked him with a wooden sword."
"Pardon?"
"I wacked his shins with a wooden sword." She grinned, reminiscing to that day. "In all truth, I had met Gandalf the year before. He knew my mother before she had married my father, and he had taken her on a few adventures. They had been good friends, Gandalf and my mother."
"Lord Elrond also speaks of your mother in a few of his stories." Kiera added offhandedly, watching the hobbit for a reaction.
"Well, I wouldn't be surprised." Bellissima chuckled a bit longingly, "my mother left many impressions on people."
Kiera allowed herself a soft laugh. "So why did you hit the Grey Wizard?"
"Because the last time he came, he told me he would play with me of course! I wanted to get a head start in our games."
"And did he humor you?"
"Of course he did!" Bellissima snickered. "Gandalf may be a wise old wizard, but he has a soft spot for children; especially hobbit fauntlings. After setting off the first of his whizzpoppers—which were truly magnificent, may I tell you; they lit the sky in beautiful hues of blue, green, and red—he chased me around the Party Tree with his staff. It was a great night, not a care in the world for a fauntling."
"It sounds as though you had a good childhood." Kiera frowned.
Bellissima focused on the elf to realize she had been whittling at the wood she had gathered. As the hobbit tilted her head, she saw that Kiera had made fast work of the wood to form arrows. The elf had made quite a few, in fact—it was just slightly impressive.
"Oh, I didn't have quiet an easy child hood, being a daughter of a Baggins and a Took." She uttered. "It wasn't a hard life, but it wasn't easy either. And then of course we did have our hardships. Most who know about hobbits like to think we live an easy life with few worries. In a sense it's true, but more than not there is something to worry about. And true there are always people who have it harder than us, but doesn't your own problems always seem like the world to you? Besides, we are a good folk. Even if we have our troubles, we're willing to help others with it."
"Is that why you did it?" Kiera wondered.
Bellissima frowned. "I don't understand."
"Is that why you helped Oakenshield with his quest to win back Erebor? You held no allegiance to the Dwarrow kind and yet…there you were, helping a people who were not your own."
"I should think you elves are like that."
"Excuse me?"
"You're excused." Bellissima grouched. "You elves are always helping the race of men, when you're not living in Imladris with your lavish homes and the like."
"Was that an insult?" Kiera bemused.
The hobbit shrugged. "Not intended as one, but I suppose it could be taken as such."
"That is an underhanded way of saying yes."
"I said it was neither. You're the one who decided it was an insult."
Kiera looked unamused.
"In all honesty, Kiera of the Glades—I have no idea why I helped Thorin." She shrugged. "I suppose I won't ever know. All I do know, is that after I heard his song; I wanted to help. Before I heard his ballad of Erebor's fall, I was very reluctant to even have the Dwarves in my house; it wasn't proper. I also thought very much like you.
"They weren't hobbits, and they certainly weren't asking me to steal food or crops that had been stolen. They were asking me to help steal their home back. Quite frankly, I wanted nothing to do with that. A hobbit, let alone a Baggins, does not steal. But Thorin…he was something else.
"When he sung, it was as though I saw his soul that night. It was so sad, and so broken at its loss. Right then and there I wanted to rush to the sides of the Dwarves so that we might leave. But I didn't. I just…it was as if all that existed was a world of a burning fire, a stolen treasure, and crumbling mountain. I didn't see a rude leader, who had so uncouthly insulted me. I saw a great Dwarf prince, who was lost and forsaken among the dilapidated ruins of his family. Someone who wanted nothing more than to slay a dragon to avenge a father, a grandfather, and a people. It was then…
"It was then that I swore to myself, that I would help. I would help see that his soul might not be so shattered, not so adrift. Because underneath his brusque demeanor, I saw a Dwarf that would become a great king and beautiful person. I wanted all of that for him." She chuckled and shook her head. "And he wasn't even a hobbit."
Kiera paused from her wood work. "That is…much for just a friendship."
"Pardon me?" Bellissima choked.
"Your voice, it took on a yearning that told me, your relationship with the King under the Mountian was more than simply a friend."
"That's all it is." Bellissima whispered, trying not to think of anything else. It was far too early in the morning to be depressed.
"But was it once something more?" Kiera asked eagerly.
"And if it was?"
"I applaud you."
The hobbit blinked, a little bit thunderstruck.
"I have heard that the King under the Mountain has a heart just as hard as the stone walls in which his home is made of. It must have been incredibly hard for you to win his heart." Kiera explained.
Bellissima snorted, a mirthless laugh coming from her chest. "I suppose you could say I burgled it."
"I have to admit, you stole the Arkenstone for good reason, periannath. You did what you thought was right; Oakenshield was blind to what you were trying to do."
"Yes. Yes he was."
"Do you regret it? Stealing the Arkenstone?"
Bellissima hummed. "That's a bit of a private question."
"I did not say you had to answer me."
"You two are up early."
Bellissima and Kiera looked up to see Serafina walking towards them. The blonde elf carried a row of rabbits over her shoulder. The little creatures had not a single blood spot on them, nor did that seem in any sort of pain. The sapphire eyed elf gave her sister and the hobbit a grand smile.
"How is your shoulder, periannath?"
"It hardly hurts, although it's really stiff." Bellissima answered truthfully.
"That is good." Serafina chirped. "My healing did you some benefit then."
"You healed my shoulder?"
"It was not my sister." The elf giggled.
Kiera rolled her eyes, picking up the last bit of wood.
"You already lost your arrows, muinthel?" the other mused.
"Oh hush, you lost them."
"You lot are louder than Dwalin when he wakes up in the morning, and that's saying something." Balin griped, stretching out of his bed roll.
Bellissima rocked back and forth from her seated position. "Morning Balin."
"Good Morning, Miss Baggins." He yawned, stretching his arms over his head, his scarlet coat rustling loudly.
Kiera cocked one of her eyebrows in amusement and Bellissima poorly stifled a giggle. She and the elf had a conversation just a little while on the 'good morning' phrase. The conversation was still fresh in their minds.
"So, how far do you wish to go?" Serafina questioned, walking over to the two ponies and patting them both on the snout.
"I would go five hundred miles to make this journey quicker." The hobbit groaned, rubbing her eyes.
Kiera snorted—albeit gracefully.
"I doubt you, naug, or the ponies could go that far." The blonde laughed.
"Oi," Balin groaned.
Bellissima shrugged. "As far as we can make it."
"No doubt you will wish to bypass the Valley of Imladris." Kiera stated calmly, standing up.
"Correct." Balin nodded.
Bellissima pursed her lips. Seeing the elves would be a nice treat...
No. She scolded herself for wanting the delay. You are here for one reason and one reason only. Oh, the ridiculous things one does for love…does that even make sense?
"So, it seems as though there is a full day of riding ahead." Serafina chirped, beginning to tack the ponies. Her hands move nimbly around each strap, making sure the saddles were in place. She jostled the leather, or fiddled with the stirrups; clearly unsatisfied.
"Where on earth did you get this tack?" She demanded, a bit outraged. "It's positively atrocious. The leather is old, and the straps are hardly holding."
"It came from the town of Udhor." Balin informed grumpily.
"Oh well that explains it." Serafina sighed with a debonair expression. "Men can barely make materials that are suitable or well-made."
"That is rude Serafina." Kiera rebuked.
"I said barely." The other groused. "It does leave room for amendments."
The auburn haired elf groaned.
"So," Bellissima piped up, clapping her hands together. "What are we doing for breakfast?"
Ah, a hobbit's love for food—ever to save the day.
"Rabbit." Serafina grinned, picking up her string of rabbits. "And lettuce."
"That seems like some sort of cruel irony." Balin grimaced.
Kiera smirked.
"It is." The blonde chirped.
Bellissima barked out a laugh.
Balin gathered up a bit of wood, and Kiera added the pieces that she had no intention of working with. Soon they had the smallest of fires going. By then, Serafina had the rabbits skinned and slice; she hung the meats over the small makeshift spit that Bellissima had added to the fire. Giving the fire a few helpful puffs of air from her mouth, she stepped back and looked at it.
"Now comes waiting." Bellissima sighed.
"Think of it this way." Kiera said. "After this, we will not have to wait like this for a few days. There will be plenty of meat and greens to spare for breakfast."
"Hardly breakfast food." Balin muttered.
"Oh I am sorry naug, perhaps you could do better?" The auburn proffered irritated.
Serafina pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose. "Oh please, do not fight."
"You will snuff out our small, pathetic fire." Bellissima snapped.
Kiera glared. Balin seethed. Serafina banged her head against a nearby tree in frustration.
"Bebother you elves and Dwarves!" The hobbit exclaimed standing up and beginning to walk away.
"Miss Baggins, where are you going?" Balin called out after her.
She smiled, thankful that they couldn't see it. Bellissima couldn't help but think of Gandalf. Oh the irony in situations sometimes.
"To look ahead."
With that she stalked off into the trees, her hand alighting on Sting's handle immediately. She was more than thankful for her sword's presence; letter opener or not.
"Was it wise to let her go by herself?" Kiera pondered quietly.
"Probably not." drawled Serafina.
"Dear Durin." Balin groaned, rubbing his face with his hands. It was simply too early for this.
Kiera turned back to Balin. "So, setting aside all differences for at least the time being, what is the King under the Mountain's ailment?"
"Amnesia." Balin sighed, looking at the elf miserably. "And probably the worst case to have."
"Has he forgotten everything?" Serafina asked, alarmed.
"Nay, he would not be king if so. But he remembers little to none of the expedition." The Dwarf answered begrudgingly. "And that is not good, if he wishes to have a solid hold on his crown."
"That is unfortunate." Kiera offered, her tone vaguely sympathetic.
"For Miss Baggins, it is." Balin snapped.
"Does he not remember their relationship?" The auburn hair elf wondered.
Serafina looked at them with alarm. "Relationship? Outside of friendship? Hold on a second…when did we establish this conclusion?"
Kiera ignored her.
"Thorin Oakenshield does not remember her." Balin emphasized. "At all."
Serafina took a sharp intake of air.
"Nothing?" Kiera asked lifting a brow.
Balin nodded.
The auburn haired elf leaned back from where she was sitting and looked up through the canopy of tree leaves. The morning sky winked, flirting its bright baby blue flesh between the green foliage. She closed her eyes.
"Then truly it is unfortunate. The King under the Mountain is missing out on a great treasure."
Balin frowned. "I know."
By the time Bellissima returned, she was in much happier, and for Balin that was a scary thing. If the hobbit lass was chipper, something happened on her walk. He shivered.
"So, how are you now periannath?" Serafina questioned with amusement twinkling in her eyes.
Balin shot her a glance that said, 'please for the love of Durin, don't push your luck'.
"Oh it was lovely, had a lot of time to think to myself." Bellissima answered with a kind smile.
"Och, we're in trouble." Balin muttered.
"I heard that!" The hobbit gasped dramatically. "Honestly Balin, one would think you don't like that I have time to think to myself."
"It's that you set aside time for such things that, worries me lassie. You think too much."
"Oh here we go."
"Honestly, both of you behave. And Bellissima, eat please? I wish to start our travels as soon as possible." Kiera retorted, gathering up her arrows and sticking them into her quiver.
Serafina groaned. "But it was so amusing."
Kiera stood up stiffly, tossing the hobbit a bit of rabbit meat before walking to the ponies. Balin shrugged before walking to his bedroll, scrolling it up and tucking it safely into his pack. Bellissima sighed and began to eat at the though jerky of rabbit.
"With the amount of grouchiness, one would think my sister was human." Serafina chuckled.
"And is she?" Bellissima asked curiously, swallowing a bit of meat. "Is she human?"
Serafina shook her head before handing the hobbit her wine skin. "No, but the both of us have spent far too much time with the race of men than with our kin."
"Why?"
The elf shrugged. "Imladris got a bit…dull? One could wonder how we would ever tire of the beautiful city but, there is something about traversing the wilderness that beckons us. As if the elleth kind were never meant to stay so still in one spot for too long. Others have felt this calling, but few have acted upon it. Kiera and I, we just got up and left. We spent years simply wandering, enjoying the time in the woods and loving every bit of nature. It was not until we met a Ranger that we knew our calling was to be hunters."
"But…do elves eat meat?" Bellissima wondered.
Serafina beamed. "On the occasion, but rarely."
"Then why?"
"Elves do not eat meat mainly for the sake that they feel they have no right to take a creatures life. That it is, wanton. Kiera and I have learned differently in the ways of men. If the animal is used well, and is used wholly—then there is no waste. It feeds, clothes, and keeps healthy, giving its life for others. There is no greater sacrifice for the creature."
"Almost poetic." The tawny haired hobbit laughed, her braid bouncing on her shoulder.
Serafina's eyes widened, her suspicions from the earlier conversation almost confirmed. "That is a braid of the Dwarrow."
Bellissima pursed her lips. "I…yes, yes it is."
The blonde elf stepped closer and touched the braid tentatively. Bellissima flinched but allowed her to do so. Serafina fingered the beads in her plait carefully, almost reverently.
"These runes, they are in Khuzdul. What do they mean?"
"I don't know." The hobbit lied.
Serafina squinted at her. "Who gave these to you, then? The Dwarrow are overly protective of such signs of friendship and their precious language."
"One of the company." It wasn't lying, it just wasn't detailed.
Serafina remained quiet for a second before whispering softly, "Oakenshield?"
Confound these elves and their perceptiveness! Bellissima hung her head. Was she really that readable? Like an open book?
Serafina offered her a comforting hand to the cheek. "There is nothing to be ashamed of. Now I can see why you are so eager to reach the mountain and its king."
The hobbit did not answer.
So instead, the blonde reached out and grabbed Bellissima's hand.
"Come, you must pack your things. I want to set out right away, we have a bit of riding to do."
"We?"
"You did not expect my sister and I to walk the whole way, did you?" Serafina laughed.
Bellissima grimaced. "Well, are we all going to fit on the two ponies?"
"I have no idea." Serafina bemused. "But, there is no possible way on the Valar that I am walking the whole way."
"Fair enough."
† † †
The day carried on quickly for Bellissima. While Balin rode with Serafina, she had to ride with Kiera. The auburn and obviously more serious elf, had left little room for small talk in her brooding. This had given the hobbit plenty of time to think. She couldn't help but think of her cozy smial back in Hobbiton. She wondered if Lobelia had given Hamfast a hard time, or if the witch had snuck in and stole her mother's West Farthing china again. She thought of her beautiful tomato plants, zucchini, carrots, sweat peas, and pumpkins, wondering if Hamfast was able to take care of everything on his own. He was a great gardener but they had always worked together to keep the plants in tip-top condition.
And she thought of Anthereon.
She didn't know why she constantly thought of the elf but she did. Thinking about him, happy with his family, gave her some sort of hope. Anthereon had been a soldier, an elf no less, and had found his love. A human girl with no promise of glory, or an elven life; just a simple girl who offered her heart to the right person at the right time. Bellissima had no idea how Merlee had won the mysterious and deserter soldier of Greenwood over, but she had. And, as silly as it sounded, it gave her the possibility that she could have a chance to win Thorin's heart over again.
Just maybe, just maybe, the beads in her hair would be re-braided.
Spirits a little higher, her heart alight with hope, she began to sing under her breath. Quiet enough that no one could hear, but her. The wind seemed to carry her voice forward throughout the woods, echoing to the trees that they were coming. Well her and the trees, but she didn't mind—the trees were bound to hear her song anyway. The trees have ears.
"I would walk five hundred miles,
And I would walk five hundred more
Just so that I could end up at the mountain door.
With little money, with little hopes to come true
I pray it's enough to come home to you.
"The day goes by, I've no coin for my efforts
Just the phrase that I'd be there for you.
I've no quarrels, no regrets to set aside
I only want to be here to smile brightly at you.
"Because I would walk five hundred miles,
And I would walk five hundred more
Just so that I could end up at the mountain door.
With little money, with little hopes to come true
I pray it's enough to come home to you.
"I have my feet, I have my heart,
A thousand miles, are nothing if it's worth you.
I'd gladly walk them twice over again
If it meant to get to be with you.
I'd walk the earth forever an endless day
Just to say that I see you.
"Because I would walk five hundred miles,
And I would walk five hundred more
Just so that I could end up at the mountain door.
With little money, with little hopes to come true
I pray it's enough to come home to you.
"And if I grow lonely, on the never ending road
Then at least I could say, I never forebode
The empty feeling inside my heart
that I never got to see you.
Because even in this old age I know,
I am coming home to you.
"By the Valar, I am coming home to you.
"And I would walk five hundred miles,
And I would forever walk five hundred more
Just so that I could end up at your mountain door.
With little money, with little hopes that shan't come true,
I wish it were enough for you to know,
That I am coming home to you."
She smiled just a bit as the wind rumbled by, caressing her in a gentle and harsh way. With another deep breath she began to sing again. Where the lyrics came from, or why she was inspired to sing a silly little ditty, she didn't know. But all she knew, was that her heart was full for the first time that year. It was full of wishful thinking
I'm coming. Bellissima gladly thought.
† † †
Far away, in a mountain that had once been in keep by a dragon, slept a king. He had become a great king over the two years; well-loved and respected by most of his people. But just because he was in high regards with his people, did not mean he had the easy life of a blacksmith. That day, for example, he had been run tired and worn from a day of service and of meetings. So he really could not be blamed if he fell asleep at his desk while he had been going over a few contract from the other Dwarrow clans. So there, on an oaken work desk, sleep an exhausted raven-haired Dwarf. And what normally would've been a quick nap, was a deep sleep.
A beautifully peaceful sleep that was riddled with a song.
The song bursting forth from the wind with a mournful voice that was so foreign and yet so painfully familiar.
"By the Valar, I am coming home to you.
"And I would walk five hundred miles,
And I would forever walk five hundred more
Just so that I could end up at your mountain door.
With little money, with little hopes that shan't come true,
I wish it were enough for you to know—
"That I am coming home to you."
A/N: thank you to huntressofartemis101, sauara, and Moonpie for reviewing last chapter. It made me feel that even though it had been rushed, it was well loved:)