Chapter 30:

I woke up the next morning and almost forgot where I was.

It was strange, I guess, how easily your brain gets used to waking up in one place, and then you go somewhere, and you forget where you are and expect to be in the same place again when you wake up. So I was expecting to be in the stupid eleven-place and I woke up on the road.

I lurched upright, my hands immediately seeking my sword hilts, my thoughts flying to stupid ideas of kidnap, dwarves transporting me at midnight, Smaug, an accidental spell of mine - and then the memories of the day before came flooding back.

I flopped backwards again, releasing my swords. I leaned my head back and sighed deeply. Not many days left, Macintosh, I told myself. You better get your ass in gear and make a plan of what to do.

I sat up, fully awake, and kicked the remains of the fire. Sparks flew into the air. It was our last day on the road until after Lake-town. I frowned at the trees. I couldn't help but think that this was a huge turning point. I didn't want to stop travelling with my dwarves. I had grown used to it. I wasn't sure that I could sleep in an inn, or a pub, or whatever.

Around me, sounds of stirring dwarves filled the air, and I sat up, packed my things in my knapsack, and threw it across a sleeping Moonshadow's back. Then, I threw myself up the same tree from last night and gazed up at the sky.

The sun was rising, but clouds had come in over night. Not the high, fluffy ones, or the ones that looked like they were airplane smoke, or the ones that looked like the blue sky had somehow accumulated a lot of white-grey scales. No, these clouds were grey-white, but it looked like the blue had simply been replaced as the white and grey slowly lightened in the east.

I stared up at the sky some more, wishing away the clouds, but not willing to cast a spell to change it. Exhaustion had tempered my fears the night before, but now they came rushing back. Things I couldn't tell Kili - that he was meant to die, he and his brother and his uncle, the three of them. That a battle was coming, one that he could not foresee.

I climbed down the tree and got onto Moonshadow, clenching my fists in my gloves to keep them warm.

I heard crunching footsteps behind me, and I spun to find Kili coming up behind me. "We're leaving, Frey," he said gently.

"Last day on the road," I murmured.

"No," he said quietly. "We'll have more after Lake-town."

"I'm not sure I can hack sleeping in an inn," I confessed as we began walking again.

He laughed quietly. "I think you can. After all, they'll give you food. Lots of food."

I grinned. "I do like food," I admitted.

"That's what I thought," he laughed.

And off we plodded through the woods, towards the end of our journey, ever-conscious of the looming Lonely Mountain, getting closer with every step we took.

Bored, I decided to teach Kili knock-knock jokes.

"Knock-knock!" I blurted happily.

Kili gave me a strange look.

"You have to say, 'who's there?'" I instructed.

"Who's there?" he replied obediently.

"Doctor!" Then I added, "Whatever I say, add 'who' to the end of it."

"Doctor who?" he asked.

When I didn't respond, he stared at me as I died laughing. "Best show on the planet," I giggled.

When he raised his eyebrow, I sobered up. I would never know more about Doctor Who, I realised. Or Sherlock. Or Star Trek, or any one of my fandoms.

Whatever, I thought, pushing the thoughts away. After all, true love, I pointed out to myself, looking at Kili, is far more important than my favourite shows. Especially when I can always make up what happened afterward - without Moffat's or Gatiss' or any writer's interfering. You can never make up what might have happened when you miss out on love.

"It's - just a little joke," I said, grinning at Kili.

I waited until he was distracted by his walking, and then leaped at him with my hands outstretched like claws with the intense words: "I'm a hawk!"

He jumped so high, he knocked me off of Moonshadow, sending me, the horse, and himself (not to mention all our stuff) tumbling into the lake. When I came up, I was laughing so hard I almost inhaled an entire lungful of water.

Muttering to himself, Kili helped his chuckling brother (lucky Fili, still onshore) push an annoyed and whinnying Moonshadow back up the bank. We threw our stuff up, and then we climbed up, and I said pityingly, "Hold still, boys."

I quickly cast a spell that expelled all excess water (and there was a lot), and from our clothes, stuff and bodies. Moonshadow snorted appreciatively.

Kili cast me a wry look. "Was that necessary?"

"No," I replied cheerfully. "I just have a bizarre love for surprising the hell out of you."

He laughed. "If you say so."

I shrugged. "I do say so, and therefore that's what should exist."

He snickered. "Life," he said seriously, shaking his finger in my face, "does not work that way."

"It does it I want it to!" I giggled.

He shook his head and went back to walking. "You're insane."

"You're just figuring this now?"

After a few brief moments, we stopped for a brief rest and I slid off of Moonshadow. I fixed him with a hard gaze. "I know the plan was to meet you after Laketown. Why are you early?"

I wanted to see you sooner, little one, replied the horse.

"You can't come into Laketown with us, though," I pointed out.

Change my form, Freya. I wish to become a hawk. Thus, it will also be easier to get into the Lonely Mountain, if I am not in this large and cumbersome form.

"Whether you like it or not, you're a horse," I pointed out.

My mind will always be equine, and it will wear off after about a week. You may have to update the spell. And I promise I won't eat your little mouse friend.

I sighed. "What mouse friend?"

The one sitting on your shoulder, of course.

I introduced myself to the mouse, who chittered in reply, and performed the spell on the horse. Moonshadow's outline blazed in white, and then there was a blinding flash and a soundless explosion. Once my eyes adjusted, I saw that where my horse had been was a gorgeous, sleek hawk with jet black feathers and legs, with ivory talons. His beak was as black as ever, and cruelly curved. But unlike most hawks, whose eyes were sharp and bright, when he fixed me with his gaze, his eyes were the same deep, intelligent brown.

My little mouse friend, who had informed me that his name was Rory, squeaked in terror and hid in his new spot of my breeches' pocket. I laughed. "He won't hurt you," I said, chuckling.

The mouse squeaked indignantly and spoke to me mind-to-mind, just like Moonshadow. How was I supposed to know? First a huge horse, and then a hawk? Hawks eat mice!

Moonshadow flapped up onto my shoulder, peering around through his new point of view with interest. I will not hurt you, Rory. I am a horse - no, hawk of my word. He sounded amused.

"Well, Rory," I murmured quietly. "How'd you like to come for a ride around Middle-Earth?"

So, I brought in Rory the mouse already. YAY. On, to Laketown!