Getting back into routine (hopefully). Please enjoy.
The great open sky was one of the finest things to behold in the lower lands, as Boromir had said. Perhaps it was only because I had been raised inside a mountain, but to me the blue heavens stretched so far I felt remarkably tiny in their wake. I had seen lands where no one lived for miles, trees and herbs that I had never laid eyes on before, and I was surrounded by dear friends and men who had lived for adventure and duty. I had never felt such a rush of excitement in my life.
Aragorn was ever patient in answering my questions, informing me on the properties of foliage (which were edible, which could cure and which could kill), the landscapes ahead, and relating tales of his previous journeys.
Legolas was wise in such matters too, though I do not think he always had that great of patience with me. A dozen questions answered and Aragorn would begin answering them instead, the elf too kind to say I was being a sort of annoyance. I had mind what I spoke to him of as well, for Gimli was apt to interrupt with his own opinion at times, and the two would engage in a sort of debate on the difference of elves and dwarves (Legolas's points being the more subtly voiced and Gimli's being the more direct). When such started I was quite forgotten between them.
One day I requested of Legolas to know if some speckled red mushrooms I had found were edible. He replied that they were unfit for our consumption, as he had seen them before in Mirkwood and knew they would make one sick. I had to send an apologetic glance to Merry and Pippin as I dropped the armful I had collected to the ground. Thus far in the journey they seemed to have done little else than gather firewood, cook, walk, and hunger. Poor things.
"I saw Mirkwood a few times in my youth." I said, conversationally. I didn't speak of how many of the trees on the outside of the forest had been dark and sickly at the time, nor how I had once heard spiders hissing late in the night. "The heart of your forest is very beautiful."
"Thank you." He nodded, as we kept up our walk over the land.
"Of course, I saw it long after you left." I went on. "It's very different from Erebor. Much greener, and brighter and you can smell the earth wherever you walk. I quite liked it there."
"Aye, travel and trade are all well and good…" Gimli nodded, coming into the conversation. "But can you imagine how drafty and dismal a forest would be in the wintertime?" He looked at me, and I saw that the pigheaded, loyal-to-a-fault nature of dwarves was about to come forth. "The leaves would be long gone, and the cold would be near unbearable. You'd be wishin' to back under your cozy mountain then, wouldn't you? There you'd be snug and warm."
"I suppose that would be true." Legolas nodded. "Though I have always found the sight of the horizon to make up for it. The price of the elements is well paid for the freedom to roam."
"Mountains are not as cramped as you may think." Gimli replied. "Our halls go on for miles…"
I sighed to myself, stepping backward and removing myself quietly, seeing as how they were speaking to one another than to me by now. I stepped so far back I bumped into Boromir. "Oh." I saw it was him. "Sorry."
"Looks like you've done it again, Miss Fali." He nodded at the dwarf and elf. "They seem to be at odds once more, and after having spoken with you."
"I do not encourage them to argue." I defended myself. "They seem quite capable to pitting themselves against each other on their own."
"Then you make a very fine catalyst." Boromir went on.
"I'm sorry." I repeated. I didn't want to make any trouble within the Fellowship. "I'll try not to bring anything up they can possibly debate so heavily on…though at this rate it seems like they'll find anything to bicker about like that."
"I wonder if Lord Elrond could foresee how well those two would get along." Boromir sighed heavily, as the conversation between Legolas and Gimli faded, and the two separated, Gimli looking reasonably annoyed, and Legolas's face a bit more tense than it had been before.
"Dwarves and elves don't get along very well, normally." I tried to explain. If he doubted Lord Elrond's choice in Legolas and Gimli, I could only imagine what he must think of Gideon. My brother had yet to pull his sword from his belt, for hunting or friendly spars. "King Thranduil once turned his back on Erebor in time of need, and most dwarves are keen keepers of grudges. Everyone was so surprised when my uncle, Kili, fell in love with the elf maid, Tauriel. Such a thing was thought impossible. At first many were uneasy about the whole thing, but the mountain grew quite used to her eventually."
"Let us hope they grow used to one another." Boromir replied. He swept his glance over all the companions. "Your brother…" He spoke up. I tensed, dreading what he may say of Gideon. "…was he taken in by your mother and father?" He asked. "I only wonder because he bears so little likeness to you or your parents. Perhaps he is truly your cousin, but you have become close enough to call each other brother and sister?"
"He is their son, and my brother." I said, and was unable to hide a harsher tone, my temper, much like my mother's unable to tolerate such a thing.
"My apologies." Boromir noticed the spark of fire in my voice. "I know of your family. He merely looks different from you and your siblings, and with his name being not similar, I wondered…"
"You need not wonder any longer." I said quickly. "If our great-Uncle Thorin's hair had not turned grey by now, you would have been able to see that he resembles him."
"Then why the name Gideon? You and your other brothers have names that begin with same letter as your Fathers. Is that not a custom among dwarves, that names should be similar to show the bonds of kin?"
"He is named Gideon after one of my Mother's brothers, who passed long before we were born or thought of."
Boromir nodded. "Forgive me. Though I have heard of the family of Erebor, I do not know all of your history."
I still remained frowning. Boromir snickered at me. "I have never seen a princess who gives such foul glares." He smirked. "You must be quite the lady."
"I was never very good at being a lady." I admitted. "The sword has been one of my better gifts."
"I noticed you have tried to train the hobbits." Boromir glanced back again at the four of them, as they spoke with Master Gandalf, at the back of the company.
"Frodo and Sam are showing promise." I smiled, proud of my little friends. They were so unused to this sort of atmosphere, and though they did not speak much of the Shire and their homes, I knew they missed those comfortable, familiar spaces. They were trying hard to keep the pace of the others, and learn to defend themselves, not wishing to rely on anyone for protection. I could not be more overjoyed with their determination.
"And what of the other two?" Boromir asked.
"Merry and Pippin could use more practise." I confided. "I think they're beginning to think me quite pushy after all I've tried to teach them."
"I will see what I can do." Boromir said. "We have been fortunate this far to not face any trouble. I doubt our luck will hold indefinitely."
I nodded in agreement. We had been lucky this far.
"Why has your brother not spar?" Boromir asked.
"He wishes to be a scribe." I replied instantly. "To him, the written word is a sword." I glanced back at my brother. I would have to get him to practise his skills soon, whether he liked it or not.
/
By that evening we had found a sheltered enough place to camp. "Are you alright Frodo?" I asked the hobbit. I had been spending much of my time absorbing the knowledge of Aragorn and Boromir now. I quite liked Boromir, despite his harshness at times. He sort of reminded me of my extended cousin Dain, only a bit calmer, more composed, and far less hairy. I was too intrigued by the people we were traveling with I feared the hobbit thought I had neglected him.
Frodo detached his stare from the flames. "I'll be fine." He smiled a little. "The walks can get quite tiring." He fiddled absentmindedly with the little silver chain around his neck, which held the Ring.
I gently slapped his hand away. "Don't play around with that." I reminded him firmly. "You know what happens when you wear it."
"I won't wear it." Frodo replied, his tone serious. "I wouldn't dare Fali. Not after what happened while we were traveling to Rivendell."
"You say that now." I replied.
"You don't believe me?" He seemed almost hurt that I would not trust him.
"It's not that I don't believe you Frodo, I do…but it seems to have a mind all its own. I don't want you to be manipulated by it." I scowled at the Ring, which was visible through a gap in the buttons of his shirt. It was almost as if it was scowling back at me, angry for disrupting its plan. "It wouldn't do to encourage it."
Frodo dropped his hands, holding them out to the warmth of the fire instead. "All right, whatever eases your mind…mother." He teased. I punched him in the shoulder.
"Hilarious." I jabbed back at him.
Gideon was on the other side of the fire, writing of the days progress. I noticed that Boromir had taken aside Merry and Pippin and was practising with them. I didn't know whether to be pleased or angry by how they worked with him so well, even better than me. I had taught them the numbered positions, but with Boromir they performed better than they had with me. Maybe I had gotten too bossy for their liking…
I watched as he advanced on them in turns, calling out the numbers of different defence positions to gently remind them. Aragorn and Gandalf watched the spectacle whilst smoking on their pipes. Aragorn encouraged them from where he sat.
I thought to give out my own encouragement. "Keep your grip firm, Merry." I reminded him. My outburst distracted him for a second and he barely got into a stance in time. I winced.
"Not now, Fali, you're not the teacher this time." He replied, rolling his eyes at me.
I huffed but quieted myself, as Boromir have me a smirk and turned his attention to Pippin.
I rose from my seat beside Frodo and approached Gideon, taking the book from his hands, closing it, and placing it back in his bag.
"Are we to go hunting now?" Gideon asked. He was more comfortable with hunting now, having been successful before, and for that I thankful, but he had to show that he the blade he carried was not just to show off at his side.
"No, Gideon." I said, sounding cheerful. "I'll think you and I will spar now. We need the practise."
"Spar?" Gideon repeated me. "Now?"
"Yes." I nodded, pulling out my blade.
He glanced at the others around us. He had never been one for audiences when he took part in combats, and now he looked even more uncomfortable, having to perform in front of those who were more practised than himself. I touched his shoulder. "They are beginning to think you will never lift the sword you brought." I said, quietly. "You must show them you intend too, and that you will be able to when the time comes."
His head lowered a little, as though he had suspected they had such thoughts of him, and now he knew that to be true. "Come, surely it will not be the worst fight you ever had." I said encouragingly.
Gideon stood then, and pulled out his own sword. "Let us have a spar then." His tone was hopeful, if a bit forcefully so. By now we had attracted the attention of a few of our companions. Frodo and Sam were watching us curiously, and Aragorn's gaze had shifted from the hobbits to us. Gideon and I found a flat enough space, and stood opposite each other.
"First to have at sword point?" Gideon asked. I nodded, and then held my blade ready. Gideon took up a ready stance from his side.
"Frodo?" I asked. "If you wouldn't mind calling the start, and then announcing the victor after?"
He nodded, and waited until both Gideon and I had firm stances before calling out the start. The two of us advanced to the center, our blades swinging overhead to meet each other, and colliding with a grind as they braced at their hilts. Boromir looked over his shoulder as he switched again between Pippin and Merry for another drill. He saw Gideon and I, blades in hand and with intense faces. I hoped he noticed Gideon especially and how much he knew of this art. Gideon was the first to slide out of the block, taking a few quick steps in retreat and then attempting to swing at me. His aim was fine enough, and I had to retreat a step backward myself to avoid the blade, but one could tell it was a weaker strike, performed a little haphazardly.
I struck back, more confidently, and Gideon blocked me overhead, and then at his side, slipping down to deflect the secondary attack from me. I tried again, with similar results. Gideon attempted another offensive strike, a bit more successfully this time, but not strong enough to go against a counter-attack of my own. I spun on my heel to swing at his other side, and he turned, rushing past me, so that all we did was switch sides of our quickly made sparring pit. I sighed, and then prepared to shove him. If there was anything sparring lessons with my brothers or Kegan, or my parents had taught me, it was that you could not be afraid to fight a little dirty now and then.
I shoved my shoulder against him, pushing my weight against his chest. My shoulder buried itself into his sternum and I felt a great rush of air leave him as his lungs were compressed. He stumbled back, losing breath and balance. He dropped his stance, as his body sought to regain what it had lost, and I was quick to attack again. He defended himself still, deflecting a few more attacks, rather than blocking them, and hurrying to regain the ground he had lost.
Gideon managed to compose his stance again, after a moment of dancing on the edge of defeat. He gave me a small glare, and raised his blade again. "That was well done." I said. "I thought I had you for sure."
"You sure learned how to shove people around from Kegan." Gideon spoke of the lad I had back home.
"He was the one who did it first." I recalled how he had pushed me into the dirt the first day of my training, and a bond (rivalry in it's early times) between us had been born. I was interrupted in my memory though when Gideon tried to swing at my side, hoping to catch my blade and knock it from my hand. I snapped back to attention and caught his blade closer to the hilt, and stronger in my movement than he was. The blade was flung from his grasp and I was quick to point my sword to the center of his chest.
"Fali wins." Frodo announced from the fireside.
I caught the others glancing again at the end of the spar, and wondered if they had saw it all from start to finish. Gideon retrieved his sword from the dirt, and placed it back in his belt. "Satisfied now?" He asked, quietly.
"I am, and you should be too." I answered. "Did you not even notice how you saved yourself after I pushed you? That was impressive."
Gideon sighed. "It's only impressive if you win."
"You did not win the fight we had in front of Lord Elrond." I reminded him gently. "He was still impressed."
"If anyone was to ask for my opinion…" Gimli began speaking aloud, loud enough to be heard by us all, but directed at Gandalf. He went on about how he imagined we were taking the long way to our destination. "If I may suggest an alternative route, I would say the Mines of Moria would be much quicker."
"Moria?" Both Gideon and I asked. No one had seen Moria since we had sent armies there to reclaim. No one had heard from those armies for years. At best the ravens had been scared away, and more likely, that army had been devastated. Who know how many of our men were still in those halls?
It made my heart sore to think of it, three of my dear 'uncles' part of the grand mission. It hurt to imagine them trapped in the dark, always on guard, tired and living off the food stores…and that was if they hadn't…I shook my head. When I thought of Balin, Ori, and Oin I preferred to think of their kind smiles, and how they had held me on their laps or given me books or patched up my scrapes and bruises.
"No Gimli, I would not take the road through Moria unless I had no other choice." Gandalf shook his head. He didn't seem to like the plan either, knowing of the misfortune the mines had caused in the past.
"We won't know what we'll find, but you know as well as I do, it's bound to be the quicker route, and the more sheltered." Gimli added. "The mountaintops are no cheery place this time of year. We'll be digging our way through snow and ice. Mark my words, there will be blizzards with winds fierce enough to blow the hobbits off the edge!"
"Ow!" Pippin cried out at an accidently injured hand.
"Sorry! Ahh!" Boromir shouted as he was kicked in the shin and a lively tussle between the hobbits and him arose. I would have pulled the whole thing apart, laughing at them, but now I stood concerned, watching Master Gandalf and hoping he would know what we should do.
"Get him!" Merry cheered, trying to pin Boromir to the ground.
Aragorn moved to separate the three of them, and Gideon and I glanced at one another, both with concern this time, thinking of Moria.
"What's that?" Sam asked, and my gaze turned South to where Legolas was watching the horizon. There was a dark, misty cloud out in the sky.
"Just a whiff of cloud." Gimli dismissed it.
"It's moving fast…" Boromir said, as the mass rolled in our direction. "…and against the wind."
My muscles tensed with an eerie feeling. "Crebain from Dunland!" Legolas suddenly shouted.
I had never heard of any sort of creature called Crebain before, but followed Aragorn's order to hide quickly. Gideon and I sprinted to a hollow in the ground, and hide ourselves between the surface of the overhanging rock and the shrubs on the other side, sinking deeper and deeper to the ground. I could hear our fire being doused and hurried steps over the stone, before everything fell silent for a brief moment.
There was an eruption of sound, the intense squawking of what sounded like a hundred crows, and a flurry of beating wings. The sky was alive with black birds, that encircled our camp. The second they had arrived with such sudden intensity both Gideon and I had tensed further, sinking down farther to the ground, enough to lay upon our sides. My breath was in quick pants that matched my heart rate, and I nearly jumped when I felt Gideon's hand on my shoulder. I didn't know whether he held on to comfort me, or himself, or the both of us.
A moment later it stopped as suddenly as it began and they all left together. Gideon and I waited before sitting back up and then removing ourselves from our hiding place.
"They are moving back in the direction they came from." Legolas announced. "We must have been seen." He added, grimly.
"Spies of Saruman!" Gandalf exclaimed. "The passage south is being watched."
That day things changed, the moment the Crebain had blocked the sun with all their wings. They cast out the light of good fortune we had carried with us that far into the journey, and left us with our plans dashed, having to retrace our steps to find a safer route.
We walked into the night to keep up with the changing weather, and when we at last stopped I fell down, exhausted, and for the first time since we had left Rivendell, I did not feel so safe as I slept.