Disclaimer: Anything you recognize is not my own, yadda yadda yadda. I'm not making any money off of this. (Though I wish I could.)
It took only two days to reach the borders of Mirkwood when all was said and done. The elves travelled quickly any ways since they did not need to rest as often as us mortals did. The dwarves were eager to be home to Erebor and Bard's people were ready to reunite with their families.
I was walking with Thorin and Dain, listening only half-heartedly to their discussion about what heat was best to temper steel with, when the woods began to thin and I caught sight of men and women milling about the forest's edge. Bard was quick to ride forward, having remounted his horse at some point that morning. I smiled and settled into a jog after him, looking forward to seeing Bain, Sigrid, and Tilda once more.
The people crowded around Bard as he dismounted, greeting him warmly and offering kind words. He smiled distantly until he caught sight of his children, and then the smile bloomed into a full and warm grin. Bain pushed through the crowd with his sisters closed at his heels.
"Da!" Bain stopped short, caught between wishing to embrace his father and his teenaged pride. Bard smirked knowingly and clapped his son on the back heartily before whisking the two girls into his arms.
The people parted to allow me to pass once I was near and soon I was standing before the man and his family.
"Talya!" Tilda cried. She let go of her father and dashed to me, wrapping arms around my waist. Sigrid followed behind and smiled hesitantly for only a moment before she too embraced me. I hugged the girls back fiercely, then took a few quick steps to wrap my arms around Bain, too. I was a woman. I could get away with it.
He grunted and complained, but he hugged me fiercely for a few moments before he let go, clearing his throat loudly as he took a step back.
"Da told us you were injured," Sigrid said, concerned.
"We were all very worried!" Tilda added.
"I am fine, really. I was in good hands." I answered with a smile. "I'm just glad to see you guys are all alright."
"And we are," Bain said with a small smile. "I even took up a sword and fought."
"Good man," I said and then, just because I could, I ruffled his hair. He jerked away and made a face at me, so I stuck my tongue out at him.
"Ever the admirable influence on my children," Bard said dryly. He came to stand next to me, arms crossed over his chest and regarding me with amusement.
"At least Tilda is still wearing dresses and hasn't decided to run off to become a mercenary."
"Perhaps not. But she has been singing this song about building a snowman over and over again. I was half tempted to have her start singing to the orcs. It may have been enough to cause them to surrender."
I snorted in a very unlady like fashion at the mental image and bumped my shoulder into Bard. He shook his head at me.
"I suppose we aught to get everyone ready to head out." He said after a moment, surveying the crowd. "I do not think your dwarves will be too keen on waiting for this lot."
"Oh don't you try to blame them on me. I only lay claim to twelve dwarves, a wizard, and a hobbit. The rest you can blame on Lord Dain."
"Indeed. Well. If anyone has to lay blame at his feet, you would be the one to do it."
I laughed then as Bard let out a piercing whistle.
"Come now. Gather your things! I would have us on our way within the hour." He called out, looking around at the people before him. They nodded their heads and set about breaking camp and gathering their meager belongings. I watched as many of the people struggled with their things. If they were not injured from the battle, then they still were recovering from the injuries from Smaug, or old. I gave Bain a gentle push forward and jerked my head towards an elderly couple close by.
I glanced back to find the dwarves and elves close by, watching impassively. I expected it from the elves and from Dain's folk, but I grunted when I realized that not even "my dwarves" were lifting a finger to help.
"Come on," I called out, waving my hand forward. Ori and Bilbo were the first to step forward with no hesitation and I smiled warmly at them as they joined Bain in his efforts to lift the couple's things into a wagon. Fili and Kili came next, followed close by Bofur and Nori. I crossed my arms over my chest and tapped my foot until each one of them had come out to help. Thorin let out a long sigh and joined in too, but not before he grabbed Dain by his vest and hauled him forward.
With the dwarves, Bilbo, and myself, we had begun to make a dent in the crowd, but there were more than five hundred people there. After I had helped the fourth, or was it the fifth? Family break their camp, I realized it was going to take much more than the hour Bard had requested.
"Master elf," I called out, looking to one of the nearby warriors who was leaning against a tree blankly. He turned his head only slightly to look my way.
"This would go a lot quicker if you all helped." I glanced towards the rest of the dwarves who had planted their butts on the ground and began to smoke. "That goes for you all, as well."
"And why should we?" The elf I had spoken to asked. "They are not our people."
"Seriously with that?" I grumbled. "Doesn't Mirkwood trade with these people? Have you not, in the past, worked together on some fronts?"
He blinked slowly.
"And didn't you guys fight side by side against the orcs?"
He inclined his head forward ever so slightly.
"Then if any of that means a thing to you, get your butt over here and help out. And if nothing else, realize that the sooner they get their crap together, the sooner we can all head out. The sooner we all head out, the sooner we get to Erebor. And the sooner that happens, the quicker you will all be on your merry way back to your homes. So, lets go!"
He watched me a moment longer before he pushed off from the tree and looked to the rest of his kin. He spoke a soft word in elvish and they all stepped forward and mingled in with the crowd to help. I turned to look at one of the dwarves who had often sat with Dain and he held up his hands.
"No need to scold us, Lady Shadowbane. We're getting up, aren't we lads?" He glanced over his shoulder at those nearest him.
"Aye. Wouldn't want her to turn that sharp tongue on us," A dwarf near him added dryly, pushing to his feet.
"And I'd rather her not tackle me as she did the prince Fili." A younger one called out with a laugh.
"I do not think I'd mind that part," The second dwarf retorted with a lusty wink in my direction.
I rolled my eyes and headed back into the crowd to help out.
While thirteen dwarves, a hobbit, a wizard, and myself had not been able to move through the crowd very quickly, the addition of three dozen dwarves and two dozen elves made the work go by much quicker. In about half an hour, all the camps were broke, belongings were packed, and the few wagons that had been badly damaged had even been fixed.
I stepped back and smiled as I watched everyone mingle. While the dwarves and elves still ignored each other fairly well, I was glad to see that they were at least amiable towards Bard's people.
"Talya," Bilbo said, stepping up beside me. Gandalf followed behind shortly and the three of us stood quiet, watching as the group began to settle into loose columns to start on. It was good to see that the very strict lines of Men, Dwarf, and Elf had skewed slightly around the edges
"It seems that a womans touch was all that was needed," Gandalf commented, pulling out his pipe.
"Isn't it always?" I asked sardonically. "Men…er… males are just too damn stubborn and prideful to ask for help. Or to offer it for that matter. Present company excluded, of course."
Bilbo smirked a little. "Of course."
"Indeed," Gandalf puffed.
"I also have the advantage of being able to see pretty much anything, within reason, without getting the shit beat out of me."
"Ah, are you speaking of the advantages to having a pretty face?" Bard asked, wiping off his hands as he walked towards us. He winked at me and I rolled my eyes.
"Something like that," I replied. "How goes it?"
"Well enough. I do not think that we would have moved quite so quickly without your assistance, Talya. I thank you."
"Don't thank me." I said. I jerked my chin forward to indicate the elves and dwarves. "Thank them. Relations are never going to improve if you all don't suck it up and play nice now and again."
"You have such a way with words," Bard drawled sarcastically. "How do you manage?"
"Watch it, Bard, or I'll teach Tilda 'The song that never ends'."
He narrowed his eyes and thought for a moment.
"I do not know what that is, nor do I like the sound of it. I concede. For now."
"'The Song that Never Ends?'" Bilbo asked. "I rather like the sound of that. What could be wrong with a song that does not end?"
Gandalf let out a long breath of smoke and shook his head as I grinned.
That week passed quicker than I had anticipated. I spent most of my days on Grey-manes' back, riding up and down the column with Bilbo, talking and listening to elves and dwarves and men alike. Neither one of us had grown up with the prejudices of the rest and it was easy for us to ignore our difference and instead look for the similarities.
Sometimes we rode next to Dain's dwarves and listened to them tell of the Blue Mountains, or of their families. Other times, we mingled with the elves and listened fondly to their singing, or had impromptu lessons on elvish. Gandalf proved to be quite right, as he usually was, and I was often teased for my terrible pronunciation, but it was in good fun and so I did not mind. I enjoyed riding with the people of Lake Town perhaps most, only because it was good to be among my own people for a little while.
Now that the quest was over and I no longer allowed myself to dwell on the negatives, I found myself thinking often, and fondly, of my own kin, a world away. I found myself often listening wistfully to the stories parents' told their children, as it made me think of my own mother and grandparents. The three had often read to me growing up, or regaled me with stories of their childhoods. My grandfather had been born in Ireland to an Irish woman and an English man. My grandmother had been Italian and German, born and raised in the United States. It had always been interesting to hear how different their lives had been up until they met.
My mother was the one who had been the one to read to me most often. It was from her that I first heard the tale of the Hobbit, and later, the Lord of…. Huh.
I frowned and realized that I could not remember what the other story was.
"My lady?" A young woman, who had called herself Dagny, asked, glancing in my direction. I glanced up and shifted Grey-Mane's reins in my hand. I had taken to walking that day, leading Bilbo behind on the horse's back.
"Sorry," I said with a small smile. "My mind wanders."
"I just bet it does!" Said her mother, Eira, kindly. "I do not understand how you carry yourself so!"
"With one foot after the other, ma'am, just as everyone else does."
She reddened fiercely when I called her ma'am and smiled.
"Well, m'lady, if one is to believe even half the stories about you…" She trailed off, somewhat flustered.
"And what stories would those be?" I asked, somewhat amused.
"Well, you were with Master Bard when he slay the dragon!" Dagny said. "It was your bow he used!"
I nodded slowly, then paused to tug my bow free from its spot on Grey-manes saddle. I passed it off to her, who took the bow near reverently.
"The bow that slay a dragon…" She whispered softly. A few people around her were looking our way with interest now, a few of the men, in particular, taking particular attention of my bow.
"You slay a thousand orcs, including Bolg, the son of Azog!" Called out a young man. I shook my head.
"I highly doubt it was a thousand. But I've been told it was by my hand that Bolg was slain." I answered. The man looked shocked.
"So you did fight in the battle?" Eira asked, voice breathless.
"Aye, that I did." I replied, then shook my head when I realized I was once more falling into their pattern of speech.
"My husband said that you told off the elf-king, as well as the dwarf-lord, Dain." Came another woman's voice.
"Hah! That she did do!" Called on of the men. "Heard it with my own ears."
I grinned at that.
"Is it true the dwarves' adopted you as their own?" A young boy asked, pushing between two men, whom I assumed to be his father and brother.
"Aye, and proudly, too!" Called out Nori. He fell into step next to me. "Like her so much we're marrying her off to the King under the Mountain!"
"Like he has a choice at this point," I pointed out. The people gasped before me.
"I did not believe…"
"A dwarf taking a woman of man to wife?"
"Lucky dwarf," One man said.
"Lucky wife!" Called out a woman. I recognized her as one of the women Nori had slept with and I laughed out loud, elbowing Nori hard in the ribs. He grinned sheepishly, then winked at the woman who blushed.
"So you are to be a… queen?" Eira asked, stammering.
"Eh. I guess." I said with a shrug. "Not a title I particularly want, to be honest, but if that's what I've got to put up with to be with him…"
"Then he is your Beast!" I heard Tilda call out. She poked her head around the side of Nori and beamed at me.
"Yeah. Except I don't think us getting married is going to change how hairy, or how grumpy, he is." I was getting strange looks at that and I let out a long sigh, realizing that I was now going to have to explain the story to them, or be bombarded with questions for the rest of the trip.
That night, I settled down among the people of Lake Town and told stories to anyone who would listen. I went through Beauty and the Beast, and the Lion King, with the children in particular delighting in those. As the night wore on and the youngest drifted off to bed, I graduated from Disney movies to more complicated stories, like our legends of King Arthur. Many of the dwarves, and even some of the elves, settled in to listen. If the two races had nothing else in common, it could be at least said that they both thoroughly enjoyed listening to stories and songs. Well. As long as I wasn't the one doing the singing.
I settled back against my arms and Bilbo shook his head. He had been sitting next to me most of the night, taking as much delight in my tales as the rest.
"And you think you'd make a terrible queen," He scolded softly. "Look how easily you have brought these people together."
I looked up to where he gestured, taking in the sight of the three races lounging casually amongst one another, chatting amicably now about the stories. It made me smile. Bilbo and I watched and listened to the idle chatter until the fire began to die down and everyone started to filter away to their own camps and beds.
"I think it'll be time soon for me to go back to my own people," Bilbo said softly starring off into the dying embers. "It's December now, and I've been away for nine months. It'll likely take me three or four more to even return to the Shire."
"You'll always be welcome here, you know." I commented, not looking at him.
"That I do know. But my heart longs for the Shire. For its' simple pleasures and its simple folk." He turned his head to look at me then.
"But you knew I'd say that."
I let out a dry and sad laugh and nodded.
"You still have a lot to do, my dear hobbit."
We strayed into silence then for a while until finally the fire went dark.
"I have a feeling that Gandalf will still have his part to say in it… But when you write this all down… And you will, dear Bilbo…. Leave me out of it, and let the sons of Durin fall as they were meant to."
He frowned at that and chewed the inside of his lip. He studied me for a long moment, then nodded.
I pushed myself up off the ground then and brushed the dirt and leaves off of my pants. I looked around to find Grey-mane standing off to the side, head dipped down, and snoring softly. I shook my head and, after squeezing Bilbos' shoulder gently, walked off in the general direction of Thorin and the rest.
I picked through the camps slowly, soft 'good nights' uttered from many of the people that I passed, no matter the race. When I finally heard the sound of Bombur snoring, I chuckled quietly and made my way in that direction. I skirted my companions, a few grumbling softly in their sleep, until I found Thorin leaning against a nearby tree, looking out towards the Lonely Mountain that loomed ahead.
He glanced my way and smiled warmly as I approached, holding open his cloak. I crossed over to his front and leaned against his chest as he drew his arms around me.
"We shall reach Erebor by tomorrow evening," He commented quietly. "Dain thinks that the rest of the folk belonging to our halls will have made it there by now, or at most, in a few days' time."
"Are you looking forward to seeing them all again?" I asked.
"Yes," He answered simply. "I have spent so long in exile… I wish to look upon the faces of my people once more. I wish to see them returned to the halls of our forefathers. I wish…"
"For them to know that you fulfilled your promise?" I finished. He nodded almost imperceptibly. I nuzzled my face against his and frowned at how sad he seemed.
"Whats wrong?" I asked. He let out a sigh. "And please don't say 'nothing'."
"I… fear." He said, hesitant. He loosened his grip and for a moment, he would not look at me.
"What do you fear?"
"That the sickness is… not gone from me. I fear that I will fall prey to it once more and I shall lead all to ruin." His words were the barest of whispers.
"I can't promise you that dark thoughts will never again plague you," I said slowly. "But I can promise that I will be there to chase them away. I can promise that I will always be there for you."
He smiled slightly then and pressed a kiss to my head.
"And I can promise to kick you in the ass if you ever start to be a jerk again."
He laughed out right at that and once more tightened his arms around me. I lay my head back on his shoulder and he rested his cheek against the top of my head and together, we watched the moon make its way across the sky.