CHAPTER TWENTY
The Great Escape
"I'll wager on the sun's on the rise," Bofur announced after a moment of silence, squinting up into the far away caverns of the realm, "It must be nearly dawn,"
"We're never going to reach the mountain, are we?" sighed Ori, clipping his feet together out of sheer boredom and Farren merely grumbled in response, too curled up to care. She had taken her cloak off and wrapped it around herself, scrunching her body up onto the narrow dirt ledge that the elves had so kindly built within each of the cells. Now she was picking dirt from her nails and flicking tiny stones at the wall opposite her,
"Not stuck in here, you're not!" came a voice that Farren had been longing to hear ever since she was dubbed unconscious by the spider's venom. Although the elves had treated her belongings like scum, they had gently bound her aching shoulder and applied a herby dressing that was certainly doing its job well.
Bilbo stood before the door to her cell, holding up a pair of golden, bronze and silver keys, smiling at her smugly.
"Bilbo!" she, and the others, cried out in happiness but the said Hobbit hushed them with panicky eyes, holding a grubby finger to his lips,
"Shh! There are guards nearby!" he advised quietly unlocking Farren's door first. She shunted the bars aside, dropped to her knees and wrapped her arms around him,
"I thought you had been digested," she whispered, regaining her composure and patting the scarlet Hobbit on the shoulder, "Please don't scare me like that again,"
Bilbo grinned in embarrassment and proceeded to unlock the rest of the cells, each dwarf slapping him gratefully on the back or thanking him in harsh whispering voices.
"Go to the stairs!" Dwalin exclaimed, shunting the youngest dwarf to where he though the exit would be, "Ori, you first!"
"No, no!" Bilbo grabbed the back of Dwalin's coat, tugging him backwards, "This way, follow me," the dwarves were hesitant in following Bilbo, looking towards their leader as if he was to show them the way out,
"Follow him," Thorin gruffly said, nodding towards where the disgruntled Hobbit had already taken off, Farren at his heels. She was determined not to lose him again and had a firm hold on the tail of his coat. The Company, minus one, flew through the elven realm; doging guards when needs, ducking beneath winding bridges and scampering through damp halls that seemed to last an eternity.
"This way," Bilbo hushed them, directing them down a narrow flight of stone steps that were only lit with flickering lanterns along one wall.
"I can't believe it," Kili said from far behind as the room opened up, "He's brought us into the cellars,"
And so he had. The room, without the hundreds of shelves of mead, wine and ale, could have been a throne room with high ceilings and arches with intricate carvings that even Farren could not decipher. There was a round table at the foot of the steps, where three guards lay face down, snoring loudly with their hands still wrapped tightly around bottles of mead. Bilbo led them past the table and between two larger shelves that held bulging barrels of alcohol,
"You were supposed to be leading us out," seething Bofur, "Not further in,"
There was an angered mumble in agreement and Bilbo turned around, trying to keep them quiet,
"I know what I'm doing," he was nearly hysterical and Farren begged Thorin with hard eyes, following Bilbo further into the cellar to where at least twenty barrels had been stacked in a neat pyramid,
"Into the barrels," Bilbo pushed Ori forwards, "Everyone climb in quickly!"
"Are you mad?" Dwalin exclaimed, "They'll find us!"
Farren glanced towards the barrels with worried eyes. They were rather small and however small a human she was, it would be quite a tight fit and she wasn't too keen on the idea,
"No, no – they won't," Bilbo almost seemed close to tears as he tried to reason with the stubborn dwarves, "Please, please, you must trust me!"
No one moved. Not even Farren who desperately avoided Bilbo's pleading eyes. No one could decide whether be very selfish and sneak out another way, or to take the risk and do as Bilbo wanted.
Boots thundered overhead and Farren jumped, hearing voices and foreign languages pass over her head,
"Do as he says," she yelped, diving to the dusty ground and crawling into what she assumed was the biggest barrel. It was undeniably tight and her arms were crushed up uncomfortably against her chest, her the tip of sword digging into her thigh and her legs were bent in an odd angle so that she could fit as much of herself in the barrel as possible. And still her forehead was visible. She heard the rest of the dwarves struggled to fit themselves plus all their fur and weapons into the small barrels and she pulled her head up slightly, seeing Kili's disgruntled face above her.
"What do we do now?" she asked, finding herself excited at the wonder of what Bilbo had in store for them,
"Hold your breath," he smirked, walking up to a long leaver that was as tall as the Hobbit himself, counting each of the dwarves as he went, making sure he had everyone,
"What do you mean 'hold my breath'?" Bofur asked worriedly and Bilbo merely continued to grin mischievously, pulling the leaver with all his might. Farren kept her head above the barrel's rim, keen to see what the leaver had done. With an agonising creak, the floor seemed to begin to tip upwards, causing the barrels, Bofur's at the front, to roll towards where a large opening was appearing where the floor joined the wall. Gulping loudly with delighted eyes, Farren tucked her head into her chest, her head spinning.
Her stomach dropped as she rolled off the edge. Crying out with glee, her barrel sailed several feet through the air before crashing heavily into a narrow and fast flowing river that had sharp, blunt and rugged rocks either side. Wedging herself up, she freed her shoulders and arms from the confines of the wood and turned to look behind her. She counted four groaning and exclaiming dwarf heads; she looked in front and spotted the rest…but no Bilbo,
"Stop!" she called out, "Grab the rocks, we have to wait for Bilbo!" wrenching her sword out of its sheath on her hip, she dug it into the rock to her left, reaching out and wrapping her fingers around Balin's fur hood. Several barrels thumped into the back of her as they all struggled against the raging current of the pure blue water. Thorin was at the front, holding on to the sides with both hands, grunting in an effort to keep Ori and Nori from passing him.
There was a yelp and a splash, and Bilbo's outstretched hand floated past Farren. Letting go of Balin, she clasped his slippery fingers and tried to hoist him into her barrel, but only succeeded in holding on to him tightly as they floated down the river. It opened up into the day, woody staircases with hurrying elves either side, all armed with bows,
"Hold on!" Thorin barely shouted as something Farren was not expecting caused her to cry out. Again, her stomach lurched suddenly as she and Bilbo tumbled haphazardly over the waterfall, barely able to choke in breaths before they were torn through rapids. Several times, Bilbo was nearly ripped from her grasp and every time, she called out his name, catching him again before he crashed into a rock.
"Holo in-annon!" an elf cried out from behind them and there was a great metallic clanking. Farren looked about wildly, spotting the closing of a pair of grand river gates, shutting the rapids off and stopping them from floating any further.
"NO!" Thorin shouted in dismay, his face red and his person soaked to the skin.
"Watch out," Bofur suddenly exclaimed as something leapt over their heads, roaring as it did, "Those are Orcs," and suddenly they were surrounded, by elves and Orcs. Many were dying, of each side and Farren noticed that Kili, heroically had swung himself out of his barrel and was attempting to open the gates,
"Kili!" she pushed herself out of the water and on to dry land, cutting down an Orc to gain its sword. She threw it with perfect accuracy into Kili's hands, who then used it to deflect a blow from another. Farren continued to fight, clawing her way towards where Kili was to aid him. But she stopped short, seeing him fall with a thin and black arrow lodged in his calf.
She cried out, feeling his pain and thrust her sword into the neck of an Orc that was going to jump over and kill him. Kicking its headless body, she hit the leaver herself, opening the gates before kneeling down next to her fellow,
"Kili," she breathed, her hands hovering over the bleeding wound, not daring to touch the arrow for she had too much knowledge of what a black arrow could do to bare skin. His eyes were weary and his face was paling dramatically,
"Come on," he shunted her gently towards the edge of the bridge, directing her over her empty barrel that was floating towards her. Holding her breath, Farren slipped off, landing like a stone in the barrel and connected her hands to Bilbo, worrying for Kili.