The forest that the company rapidly approached was dark and the trees loomed over them all menacingly. The loud clomping of the ponies hooves, along with the thump's of a wolf's paws, filled the air. Sveilrun was at the front of the group, a large harness like contraption on the wolf form's back with saddlebags attached. The wolf's ears were perked up in attention, the forest was rapidly changing, becoming more dangerous with every passing week, and the thought unnerved the skin-changer. Even for her, someone whose knowledge of the wild ran within their very blood, the forest could be an extremely dangerous place. The company got as close as they could to the forest before dismounting their ponies. Gandalf approached the dark woods, through an ancient archway that looked like it had long been forgotten.
"The Elven Gate," Gandalf spoke before turning to face the others, "Here lies our path through Mirkwood."
"No sign of the Orcs," Dwalin pointed out, "We have luck on our side."
"The Orcs will stay away as long as the bear is near," the rough, growling voice of the wolf spoke, as it sat down near the gate. The bear could be seen standing atop a distant ridge, watching the company as they stood outside the forest, "We should be safe to spend the night here."
"Spend the night? We don't have time to waste another night, the Orcs will be on our trail," Thorin huffed angrily.
"Do you not pay attention to your surroundings?" Sveilrun taunted in her rumbled voice, "Night will fall soon, only a fool would enter now. The Orcs are more occupied with crossing the bear's territory. One night here is safer then in there."
"Sveilrun is right," Gandalf said with an exhausted tone, "It would be nightfall before we'd cross the forest."
"Fine," Thorin grumbled defiantly for a moment before ordering the dwarves, "get all of the supplies and set up camp, but we're leaving at dawn."
"Set the ponies loose," Gandalf said as he glanced up at the great bear watching them from the ridge, "Let them return to their master."
Sveilrun sat on the edge of the forest and peered in, listening and watching for any movement. The forest was disturbingly silent, but the only sound she could find was the sound of the dwarves unpacking their supplies. She was aware of Gandalf standing only a few feet away, doing the same as her with an unsettled frown on his brow. A large wolf ear twitched back when she heard the Hobbit approach her and the old wizard. Sveilrun looked down at the halfling, who glanced up at her with surprisingly curious eyes. She nodded her head at him politely before returning her great yellow eyes to the forest.
"This forest feels," Bilbo said with a pained expression, "sick, as if a disease lies upon it. Is there no way around?"
"Not unless we go two hundred miles north," Sveilrun replied, "Or twice that distance south. And I don't suppose your leader will look too fondly upon those options."
Bilbo chuckled dryly, but seemed put out by the thought of entering the forest. Gandalf stepped through the archway and made his way onto the path, leaving Sveilrun's view, but she wasn't worried as she already knew the old wizard was not to be trifled with and could manage himself if need be.
"Why do you follow the dwarves?" Sveilrun asked the hobbit, "The last I heard, halflings stuck to their homes."
"I'm still trying to figure that out myself," Bilbo replied with an innocent earnestness that made a deep rolling chuckle pass through the wolf's chest, "I'm their burglar, according to them."
The wolf snorted humorously, "I take it you weren't so willing to choose that post?"
"They didn't force me, if that's what you mean," Bilbo corrected, "I'm here because I want to be."
"Do you think you'll have the same perspective once you reach the end of your quest?" Sveilrun asked, watching the hobbit with cunning eyes.
"Well, I - I would like to think so, yes," he managed to reply.
The wolf looked over the hobbit and bobbed its head in approval, "We shall see."
At that moment Gandalf emerged from the forest in a rush, and managed to yell just as the dwarves were releasing their ponies, "Not my horse! I need it."
All of the dwarves stared on in confusion and murmured their surprise between each other.
"You're not leaving us?" Bilbo asked with the same surprise as the dwarves.
"I would not do this unless I had to." Gandalf replied in a hurry.
Gandalf and Thorin share a look of understanding, but when the wizard turned to the hobbit who looked rather dejected at Gandalf's sudden departure. Gandalf quickly pulled Bilbo off to the side so they could share a few words. Sveilrun looked to the sky and found the sun just beginning to kiss the distant mountain range. A certain discomfort filled her bones; she would have to turn back into a woman soon. It had been set for years that the wolf favoured the day, and the woman favoured the night. To leave that pattern for more than a few hours was extremely discomforting. The moment the last rays of sunlight fell behind the mountain the person would begin to outweigh the wolf. Sveilrun huffed in annoyance. She would have to find a secluded place to shift, as the thought of appearing naked in front of thirteen dwarves and a hobbit was more than a little unnerving. She stood to her full height and shook out her shaggy dark fur, hearing the metal buckles and hide stripes jingle with her movement. Luckily because of the size difference between the wolf and the woman, when she shifts back the large harness carrying all of her gear will just slip off. The thought of having to ask for help to get it off was enough to send a disgusted chill down her spine.
Walking towards the dwarves, who had already managed to have a fire started and some of their bedrolls laid out, she caught Gandalf's words to Thorin, "I'll be waiting for you at the overlook, before the slopes of Erebor. Keep the map and key safe. Do not enter that mountain without me."
As Gandalf continued to his horse he kept speaking to the dwarf, "This is not the Greenwood of old. The very air of the forest is heavy with illusion. It will seek to enter your mind and lead you astray."
Sveilrun could hear Bilbo asking Dwalin a few feet away, "Lead us astray? What does that mean?" and couldn't help but chuckle. This company has no idea of what waits within the forest. But then again, neither did she.
Gandalf quickly mounted his horse, but continued talking, "You must stay on the path; do not leave it. If you do, you will never find it again."
As he began to ride off Gandalf yelled out again, "No matter what may come, stay on the path!"
If only Sveilrun had realized how difficult the next few weeks would be for her, she may have turned back.
As the evening passed, and the sun made it's descent over the mountains, the group of dwarves all sat merrily around a roaring fire with servings of cooked stew before them. Sveilrun shifted uncomfortably from her spot a few feet away from the fire. The sun would set soon, and she knew she would have to change to her weaker state. Her discomforts were easily noticed by Thorin, and the dark haired dwarf couldn't help but let out a dry chuckle, "Please, don't tell me our great protector is afraid of the dark."
"I find the arrogance of kings much more frightening than anything else I've encountered, I suppose I shall remain uncomfortable for the entire trip," the wolf's growling voice shot back at the dwarf leader, earning a few muffled laughs from the other dwarves sat around the fire.
Standing with a huff of annoyance, the wolf turned from the dwarves with a simple, "I have business to attend to, I shouldn't be but a moment."
Sveilrun heard Thorin mutter some backhanded comment underneath his breath, but didn't bother with the dwarf's bitter attitude. She only entered a few paces into the woods before she let the transformation take over. She felt her bones crack and bend, her skin shrink and tighten, and her skull pull back and reform. Luckily the discomfort only lasted a moment, and just as soon it began it was over and she stood in the darkness of the forest. She felt the large harness the wolf wore fall to her feet, along with the old cloak it had wrapped around its paw. Luckily she packed some better clothes into the bags attached to the wolf's harness, and wouldn't be subjugated to the discomfort of having only her cloak once again. Sveilrun quickly dressed herself, pulling on a white tunic and worn pants with the proper undergarments, and then threw on her cloak over top for extra warmth. Picking up the harness, she quickly made her way back towards the camp of dwarves.
The dwarves at that point had begun playing different instruments as one or two danced around the fire. Fiddles, violas, flutes, and drums all played along to the deep voices that sang along. If they hadn't looked so joyous, Sveilrun would be tempted to warn them of making too much noise, but she couldn't hear any signs of Orcs nearby and left them to their songs. Most of the dwarves had some form of instrument to play, and those who didn't were stomping their feet along or chanting ridiculous tunes. Sveilrun was able to slip in without causing too big of a stir, and sat herself next to Bilbo. When the hobbit noticed her presence, he quickly jumped to his feet to grab her a wooden bowl filled to the brim with hot stew.
Sveilrun took the bowl from him, surprised that he'd grab her any and said a simple 'thank you' before digging into the meal. As she ate she watched Bilbo from the corner of her eye. He was definitely odd, for a hobbit, most of his sort would scoff at the idea of going on a perilous adventure. He didn't take part in any of the singing or dancing that the dwarves were so fond of, but he watched with a certain fascination that reminded her of a child. Thorin also didn't take part in the dwarves displays, but a golden harp rested next to him wrapped in a cloth.
As she ate, she found the sleeves of her cloak becoming a hindrance as they kept sliding down into her food, so she pulled the sleeves back and up to her elbows. The hobbit couldn't help the small gasp of surprise when he saw what laid beneath her sleeves. Sveilrun's wrists were horribly scared. From the base of her hand to three inches up her forearm was a long and hideous array of scars on both arms in the form of deep gashes. The bumpy and disfigured skin was a pale pink in comparison to her tan skin, and made the hobbit's stomach roll. To him, it looked as if a savage animal had tried to tear off her hands, and had almost succeeded. Bilbo was not the only one to notice. Many of the dwarves, the ones not preoccupied by dancing or instruments, quickly took notice to the woman's arms.
Sveilrun could feel their stares as she dug into her food, but didn't look up. She knew they would be thinking up all different kinds of possibilities as to how she got the scars on her wrists, and frankly couldn't give a damn what they thought. But of course such things were not appropriate to ask about, even the dwarves knew that, and they quickly averted their stares. They continued their displays of dancing and singing around the roaring fire, and put whatever abuse the woman had faced to the back of their minds. It was only the dark haired leader who kept his piercing blue eyes fixed on the woman as she ate.
As the fire died and the dwarves' songs slowed to a stop, they all found themselves needing the comfort of sleep so they would have energy for the next day. Thorin selected a few dwarves to keep watch at different times during the night; Kili, Fili, Balin, and himself. Sveilrun would also remain awake; it was rare when the woman could grasp onto sleep, especially in her current form, and knew that this night would be even more difficult with a group of snoring dwarves. As the others all made to rest, Sveilrun found herself in the company of the older, white haired dwarf. She had been sitting at the edge of the group, positioned so she could keep a watchful gaze over the company but also keep her eyes on the forest. The older dwarf had shuffled over to her and plunked himself down with a friendly enough smile.
"Not going to rest?" he asked the skin-changer quietly.
"Not tired yet," She replied, which wasn't a complete lie, and shrugged her shoulders, "Besides, if anything approaches, I'll hear them sooner if I'm awake."
The old dwarf nodded his head understandingly, "Well the company will be nice."
"My apologies, in the introductions earlier there were one too many names for me to attach to faces, could you refresh my memory as to what you're called?"
"No worries lass, my name is Balin," He replied, not dropping his happy expression.
Sveilrun simply nodded her head in greeting, and the two lapsed into silence. The sun had long since set behind the mountains, letting darkness fill the land, and the only light to be shown came from a crescent moon and the stars. Sveilrun let her mind wander as she traced over the stars with her eyes, finding the few constellations she knew of and remembering the ones she had made up, and the ones of her family. She read the different stories that the sky had to offer. Many of her ancestors believed that the stories to-be were written in the stars, and they taught their young to read them, but the skill took many years to learn and even longer to understand. There were very few skin-changers that could read them properly, and Sveilrun wouldn't consider herself one of them. Once in awhile she found something, but those moments were rare and far apart.
A variety of different sounds filled the air around her as she gazed up at the sky; the crackling of what remained of the fire, insects and mice crawling across the earth, the loud snoring of the dwarves, and occasionally a silent flutter of wings that Sveilrun could only interpret as the evening movements of an owl. It was a rare moment when there was no noise to be heard, and this definitely wasn't one of them.
"If I may ask," Balin suddenly spoke, snapping Sveilrun from her star-gazing, "What were the stones for? The ones around your home?"
"Why do you ask?" Sveilrun retorted.
"No reason really, just curiosity," Balin replied good-naturedly, "See, I've been trying to think of reasons all day and so far all I've come up with is that you really like rocks."
"They help me find where I am," Sveilrun answered truthfully, "Some forests can be disorienting."
"Ah, you're like Thorin than," Balin concluded, "He has a terrible sense of direction."
"Is that so?" the young woman chuckled silently.
Balin nodded, "He managed to get turned around twice in the Shire alone."
The thought of the stone-faced dwarf getting lost among the hills of hobbit homes was highly amusing to Sveilrun, and she had to stifle one of her loud, barking laughs. The night continued with humorous stories passed between the elder dwarf and the shape-changer. The conversation was thankfully light, Balin didn't say or ask anything that could lead to more gloomy topics, and Sveilrun was quite grateful for that. After such an odd day, she was glad to simply share stories. Unfortunately his time to keep watch came to an end and he excused himself kindly to wake the next person for watch; Fili. The blond dwarf groaned in frustration when Balin awoke him, and slouched his way over to where Sveilrun sat.
"Why'r you 'wake?" Fili slurred his words at the end of a drowsy yawn, and dropped himself gracelessly onto the ground next to her.
"Couldn't sleep," Sveilrun replied simply.
"You get used to the snoring after a while," Fili mumbled and nodded towards the large group of sleeping dwarves.
"I can hear much more than just the snoring," Sveilrun replied, and at his confused look elaborated, "Wolf ears. My house was underground for a reason- no noise or light."
"What else is there to hear? It'd be dead quiet if it weren't for them," Fili responded, folding his arms over his chest and letting out another yawn.
Sveilrun couldn't help the small smile that tugged on her face as she replied, "The night is full of much more life than you'd expect."
Fili nodded, but his eyebrows creased in semi disbelief. They fell into a moment of silence that was broken once Sveilrun realized Fili was staring at her.
"What?" She asked defensively.
"Do you ever brush your hair?" Fili asked bluntly, his eyes fixed on her hair.
"I'm beginning to think I preferred Balin," Sveilrun muttered more to herself but let it be heard, "Why would I bother with hair when I am only a person at night, and rarely entertain company?"
"Why are you only a person at night?" He asked. Sveilrun was beginning to think that all dwarves were inherently nosy.
"That's just the way things are," Sveilrun replied shortly.
"I think your hair would look much better in a braid," Fili stated, standing to his feet and moving behind the woman.
"What are you doing?" Sveilrun questioned, the hint of a growl to her tone.
"Fixing the mess on your head, hold still," Fili commanded, and she felt his hands tugging on a few strands of her hair. She glared at him over her shoulder but said nothing. Sveilrun didn't really care about the state of her hair, but if fixing it made the dwarf stop bothering her then she would appease him. She could feel his hands make quick work of her hair as he braided many different strands together. She used to have her hair braided when she was younger by one of her brothers, but since she lived alone she didn't bother and didn't have anyone to do it for her.
Eventually Fili's hands drew away and she could hear him shuffling back to where he sat at her side.
"There," he said proudly, "Much better."
Sveilrun reached back to touch the simple braid that held her hair together, and ran her fingers over it lightly, "Thank you, I suppose. It's been awhile since I've had my hair done in such a way."
"Why's that?" Fili asked.
"No reason I suppose," Sveilrun said, trying to ignore the painful twinge in her chest.
The next few hours of the night continued normally. Sveilrun and Fili made polite conversation, more to keep Fili from falling back asleep than for the actual conversation. Just like with Balin, they kept conversations rather light and didn't speak too seriously. But once again the night began to pass and Fili's turn at night watch was over, and he happily returned to his bed roll to claim back his missing sleep. Next up was Kili. Unlike his brother, Kili was much more awake and smiled at Sveilrun as he sat at her side.
"Why are you awa-?"
"Not tired," Sveilrun answered before he could finish, having already heard the question from two other dwarves.
Kili nodded in reply, before saying, "Can I ask you a question?"
Sveilrun had to muffle the growl that threatened to leave her throat. 'Dwarves and their questions', she thought to herself, but instead replied, "Sure."
"Why do wolves howl at the moon?" Kili asked with a voice so serious he could have been asking what happens after death.
"That's your question?" Sveilrun said disbelievingly.
"Well see, it seems a little pointless unless the moon can howl back- it can't right?" He asked again, his eyebrows pinched together with concern.
"No," Sveilrun answered slowly, waiting for the dwarf to say he was joking but he remained to look invested in the conversation topic, "The moon cannot howl. And wolves don't howl at the moon."
"They don't?" Kili asked, the disappointment in his voice reaching a comical level, and made Sveilrun nearly snort in laughter.
"No, of course not," She shook her head at him, "They howl to send messages to other wolves."
"Why?"
"Because it's easier over long distances," Sveilrun replied.
"I guess that makes sense," Kili said, "Then why do people say wolves howl to the moon?"
'Because people are stupid,' Sveilrun thought to herself, but said aloud, "There are many reasons. Old fairy tales from my ancestors suggest that wolves were the creators of the moon and held control over it."
"Oh." Kili responded shortly.
"They are simply fairy tales, things we told cubs and nothing more," Sveilrun explained before he could get any thoughts in his head.
"Tell me the story," Kili said as more of a command than a request, but catching her scolding look added a quick, "please."
Sveilrun huffed underneath her breath before going into a telling of the story that had been permanently embedded into her memory because of all the times she had told her brothers and other cubs younger than herself. The story went on to tell of how the earth was plagued with darkness in the evenings, so dark and empty that villagers feared to leave their homes because they believed the darkness would swallow them whole. Until four wolf brothers designed a giant lantern, so bright it lit across the land and took away the villagers' fear. The four brothers named the lantern the Moon, and its presence became known across the land. Soon kings from other lands became jealous, and wanted the Moon for themselves. But the four brothers were strong, and protected the lantern against thieves. The day they died each brother took a piece of the Moon with them, and placed it in the sky so all may see its light. Every night one brother would display his piece of the Moon, and for three days a month they would come together to give as much light as they could. The four brothers stayed in the sky with the Moon to protect it, becoming the first stars, and their children followed them and so forth, until the sky was full of light even in the darkest of times.
Sveilrun's story went on for a while, and the younger dwarf listened intently with the fascination that children show. Sveilrun couldn't help but laugh at his expression, "It's just a story, Kili. It's not actually real."
"Yes, but it's a very good story," He retorted with a grin, "You must tell me more of these tales sometime, they are quite enjoyable."
'Of course it's the story we tell children that he finds interesting,' Sveilrun thought to herself, but just chuckled and nodded her head. Without fully realizing it, she had begun to compare the two dwarven brothers to the ones she had lost many years before, and while the resemblance made her chest twist in pain, it also gave her a feeling of joy that had recently become scarce to her. They passed time by telling each other short fairy tales and myths from their different ancestors. Kili's stories definitely told of how proud and stubborn the dwarves were, and their love for music, food, and gold, while Sveilrun's tales were about superstitions and stories to teach young cubs. But like each dwarf before that one, he too left to claim some of the sleep that he had lost while another came to take his place. Sveilrun found it quite comical that even though he had seemed wide awake and attentive the entire time, he dropped like a rock when he reached his bedroll and almost instantly fell asleep.
The next dwarf to grace her with his presence made her wish she could have slept; Thorin. Like Fili, he didn't look pleased at all to be awoken so early in the morning while the rest got to sleep, and a grumpy scowl was set on his face. Thorin slumped on the ground near Sveilrun, since she was sitting at the best vantage point to watch over the camp, but kept two meters in between them like she were plagued with a terrible disease. He didn't say hello, but did give a muted grunt in greeting.
Sveilrun raised a single brow at the blatantly unhappy dwarf and muttered, "Well, good morning to you, I see you awoke on the usual side of the bedroll. Cant imagine what you'd look like waking up happy."
"Why are you awake?" Thorin grumbled.
"Just so I could be in your most esteemed presence," Sveilrun replied with sarcasm practically dripping off her tongue, "It couldn't possibly be because dwarves sound like dying wargs when they sleep."
"What did you expect, wolf? A palace?" Thorin replied bitterly.
"Oh trust me, any expectations I may have had about you have turned to dust," Sveilrun replied with a smirk.
Thorin scoffed, "I could say the same."
"Just curious, but is your problem with me purely because I'm a woman? Or because you hold concern for the safety of your company?" Sveilrun asked in a more serious tone, "I couldn't care less what you think of me, but if it is just because of my gender than that's a pathetic reason."
"Oh yeah?" Thorin replied, "Because your reasons for hating me are just so much better."
"I never said I hated you- hate is an emotion I save for a select few," Sveilrun corrected, "You should never underestimate anyone, no matter their size or if they are a woman or man. It could kill you one day."
"I doubt that," Thorin replied, "I am a descendant of Durin, our line is not so easily snuffed out."
"I heard similar things said about my ancestry line," Sveilrun said, her hands absently tracing the scars on her wrists, "And now there is one, and soon there will be none. Don't be naive enough to think that strength alone will help you evade death."
Thorin's expression changed to one of brief surprise, but he quickly hid it under an expressionless mask. His eyes drifted to her wrists once again, as they had at the fire, and he asked in a biting tone, "Is that where those are from, then? Orcs kill your family and make you their pet?"
A sharp stab pierced Sveilrun's chest, but she replied in a venomous tone, "That's almost correct," lifting up her arms to look over her mangled wrists in the moonlight she continued, "But I did this to myself."
Thorin's eyes widened in horror and some of the colour drained from his face, but Sveilrun pushed him further, "I probably could have finished the job if i didn't pass out from blood loss. See, wolves weren't meant to be locked up, and mine in particular isn't too fond of shackles."
Thorin opened his mouth as if to speak, but closed it again, unable to find the words. The image of a wolf tearing at its own paws, its teeth digging into the fur and flesh in a desperate attempt to free itself, made his stomach roll.
With a tone of sickening sweetness, and her eyes glowing gold in the darkness of night, Sveilrun asked, "Still think women are weak?"
The night continued in complete silence between the dwarf king and the skin-changer. Neither had any more to say; Thorin was shocked and felt ashamed of his previous attitudes, and Sveilrun felt too upset and angry to speak. She didn't like to dredge up the past, but Thorin had pushed her buttons and she lost her temper. She reprimanded herself for losing control of her emotions so easily, but for some reason the dwarf had the ability to bring such emotions to her too easily for her liking.
Once Sveilrun could feel the first hints of the sun rising up behind the mountains, she knew her time as a woman was limited. The wolf would be calling soon and she would rather not give Thorin a show after their argument. Standing to her feet, she brushed the grass from her pants and picked up her wolf-harness from the ground next to her. Lifting it up onto her shoulder to keep it from dragging on the ground, she muttered a silent, "be right back," in Thorin's direction before heading off into the forest. She wasn't sure if he replied or not, and she couldn't care either way.
Sveilrun quickly got undressed in the darkness of the forest and stuffed her clothes into one of the saddlebags attached to her harness except for her cloak. Her cloak she tied into a large ring and hung it off her wrist loosely. She threw the harness over her shoulders so it hung and almost touched the ground. When she shifted the harness became snug against the wolf's form, and the cloak tightened around her paw. She had perfected this routine years ago to make shifts as quick as possible. Stepping back into the clearing, she shook out her shaggy black fur and stalked towards the spot she and Thorin had been seated at. She kept a comfortable distance away from the dwarf, and laid down, resting her ginormous snout on her front paws. Within moments she was asleep.