AN:

Hey everyone. Here's another chapter. I'm also not incredibly fond of this one, but it's alright. Mostly just filler. The next one will be fun. Thanks to everyone who is still reading this. I'm still surprised that I'm getting any response. I especially appreciate the lovely reviews I've received (Hopefully they won't be the last. Hint, hint.).

Disclaimer: I do not own anything you recognize.

Chapter 5: Shadow of Death

"In the forest we are hiding,

Unmarked graves where flowers grow.

Hear the soldiers angry yelling,

In the river we will go."

–Haiti, Arcade Fire

To say Thorin was not pleased would be a gross understatement. He was livid. The woman, travel with them?! They had only met her an hour ago, and between then and now she had attacked and threatened him and his Company, insulted him with her strange names and speech, and revealed that she was from an entirely different world! And now Gandalf wanted her to travel with them, which of course meant they would have to reveal the secret of their quest to her. No, Thorin was not pleased in the slightest.

He had certainly not appreciated the look Gandalf had given him when the wizard declared his plan, and Gandalf knew it too. He approached Thorin wearing a serious face that matched Thorin's own, but held none of the dwarf's fury.

"You cannot be serious." Thorin somehow managed to whisper and yell at the same time. "We barely know this woman, how can we trust her? You said yourself that the secrecy of the quest was an absolute priority and now you are willing to let any lady we cross paths with join us?"

Gandalf sighed, exasperated at Thorin's temper. "Master Oakenshield, you know as well as I do that Ms. LaRoche isn't just any lady."

"Exactly," the woman in question called from the other side of their camp. "Obviously, I'm no 'lady'." She smirked and quirked an eyebrow at Thorin. "By the way, you should work on whispering, you know, quietly." Thorin sent a glare her way. The nerve of that woman! She raised her hands in surrender and covered her ears with a chuckle. She was laughing at him! He gave Gandalf a disbelieving look.

Gandalf himself was holding back a chuckle. "Well Thorin, lady or not, I believe she can be trusted. After all, she could not possibly be an ally of any of our enemies, for she has only just arrived in this world! It is only for a little while, and she needs our help." The old wizards gave a soft laugh as he looked at the women, who appeared to be in deep conversation with Thorin's nephews. She made animated gestures with her hands as she talked, explaining something to the young dwarves, who seemed absolutely captivated. "Besides, I am an excellent judge of character, Master Oakenshield." With that, the wizard turned on his heels and left, off to do, well, whatever it is that wizards do.

Thorin didn't know it, but Gandalf wore a mischievous smile and was thinking the same thing he thing he had when he enlisted an unwilling Bilbo in this grand adventure; it will be good for you and most amusing for me.

"Okay so you put your right hand— you're right-handed right? Good. So you put you right hand here on the handle."

"Like this?"

"Almost, it's got to be in the web of your hand — there. Okay grip it really hard with these fingers and use your other hand to steady it, like this. And make sure your thumbs aren't near these parts. Good."

Thorin returned to their camp clearing before most of the dwarves, who were still going through the treasures of the troll cave. His new sword, which, he had to admit, was rather marvellous despite its elven make, was held firmly in his hand, not yet attached to his belt. What he saw in the clearing, however, almost made him drop it. Kili, who, Thorin supposed, had not even gone to the troll cave, was holding the strange contraption that the woman had called a 'gun', while the woman herself stood beside, adjusting his nephew's grip. She wore a no-nonsense expression as she explained how the supposed-weapon worked. Kili listened intently, hanging off her every word with rapt attention. A few steps away, his brother did the same as he watched. Thorin considered interrupting what was certainly a threat to Kili's safety, but something stopped him. He watched in unconscious fascination. After correcting Kili's stance and pointing out a few more things, the woman stepped back.

"So now you'd pull the trigger and make sure to follow though. It can have a pretty nasty kick."

Thorin wasn't sure what he expected. Certainly not the tiny click that followed. Neither, apparently, was Kili.

"What happened?"

"It's not loaded, that's what," she smirked. "No way am I wasting any of my bullets on target practice, and I would never give a first-time shooter a loaded gun."

Kili looked disappointed. The woman just chuckled and patted him on the back. Thorin regarded her actions with grudging respect; she had not, in fact, put his nephew in danger after all.

The dwarf lord cleared his throat, finally making his presence known to the two. Kili blushed, muttered something unintelligible and scampered over to his brother. Gemma just stared at Thorin, hands on her hips in a way that made her look even taller.

Thorin turned on his heels and walked away from the camp into the forest, assuming she would follow; soft footfalls behind him signalled that she had. When they were far away enough to have some privacy, Thorin spun again. "Listen well, woman. I, quite frankly, do not want you anywhere near my Company. I do not trust you in the slightest. But wizards are particularly hard to come by, and ours seems to have taken a liking to you. So, you are permitted to travel with us, for the time being, so long as you do not cause any more trouble. I will have Balin explain to you the nature of our quest and write you a contract, though you shall not be with us to the end. And I must warn you now; the consequences will be most severe should you betray us."

Gemma simply stared at him for a beat before her lips contorted into a scowl. "First of all, do not call me woman in that jerky little derogatory tone of yours, Mister Oakenshield," she sneered. " It is quite obvious that you don't like me at all, and, just in case I haven't made it clear already, I don't like you either. However, I do appreciate your gracious travel invitation, so thank you. Ad far as causing trouble goes, I'm pretty sure I saved your ass from a bunch of mountain trolls. I wouldn't call that 'causing trouble', but whatever. I swear I won't fuck up your little quest, and I would never betray anyone I gave my word to, no matter how much of a jerk they are." She became more serious. "As soon as I get to this friend of Gandalf's who can send me home, you won't even have to share the same world as me, so let's just try to be civil."

Thorin nodded, satisfied with her proposal; it seemed fair enough. "Well then Ms. LaRoche, we will be leaving shortly. We have already spent too long here," he said brusquely. He turned to go, but caught the change in her expression, which made him stop; she had looked past him to the wreckage of the machine in which she had arrived, her face contorting in pain.

Thorin had thought it odd that she had been acting so lively when a few hours before she had been weeping over the body of the other man, with whom she clearly had a deep connection (some small part of his brain wondered just how deep that connection was). Now he understood that she had indeed been acting, holding herself together by the threads; underneath she was mourning. Without turning around to face her, he quietly said, "There is too much bedrock here to bury him. There's a river nearby. I will have Dwalin and Dori bring his body. It is not much, but it is all we can do."

He left before she could say something in return, without turning around to look at the woman. If he had, he would have noticed her shocked expression, and maybe, just maybe, he might have noticed the tears in her eyes.

Gemma wasn't exactly sure what she believed in; if anyone asked she said she was Christian, because her father had raised her as a Christian, but they had never been much of church-goers. Sure, she hoped there was a God and an afterlife, but her abundance of terrible life experiences had given her some doubts.

Patrick Chang, on the other hand, had been strictly religious. It seemed horribly unjust; he would have wanted a proper burial, while she wouldn't have cared. This would be ungraceful, unceremonious, and quick, but hopefully it would provide some sort of dignity. This was the traveller's funeral; certainly not up to standard but the best anyone could possibly do in this place and this situation.

Gemma might not have been a church-goer, but she had been to her fair share of funerals, though none like this. The two dwarves that Thorin had spoken of, Dwalin and Dori, she remembered, carried the body to the river's edge, and then joined the rest of the Company standing a respectful distance away. Gemma knelt by Patrick's head. She simply stared for a moment, before a memory tugged at her mind.

Gemma didn't know any funeral prayers, and was sure that she would mess them up if she attempted to recite one. Instead, she whispered to Patrick's body, "Do you remember when we first met?" She smiled through the tears in her eyes. "I was going in for my interview with Parker to become part of the C.T.U. and we shared an elevator together. And of course, through my infinitely bad luck, our elevator got stuck. I was in such a panic, so worried that I would never get the job because I was late. And you said to me 'everything, good and bad, happens for a reason'." She coughed out a tiny chuckle at the memory. "And then you pulled out a pack of cards and we played poker for an hour on the elevator floor. I got the job because you insisted to Parker that I was the best, and just like that we were partners and best friends. And I always thought you were so right. Everything happens for a reason; our experiences shape who we are, good or bad, and it's up to us to take what we're given and turn it into something good." She held his body a little tighter, and her voice became a little more wobbly. "But what could be the reason behind this? Whatever it is it's not worth it. I need you, Pat. My best friend, my brother. I'm sorry that I could never love you the way you loved me, but that doesn't mean I didn't love you at all. I hope you know that, wherever you are."

Gemma sucked in a breath and then whispered, "Que Dieu veille sur toi." It was a prayer that her father used to say to her each night before bed when she was little. The meaning still applied.

With a heave, she rolled the body into the river and watched it float downstream. Then Gemma rose, brushing the dirt off her hands and knees before turning around.

She found Thorin's eyes, watching her, and simply gave him a nod of appreciation. There were no tears and no words. He nodded back, understanding. Perhaps she had been wrong about him, Gemma thought.

Maybe they could get along after all.

AN:

Nope. Gemma and Thorin will definitely not get along. It's going to be a long and bumpy road for them.

"Que Dieu veille sur toi" is French for "May God watch over you".

In case you haven't noticed the hints I've started to drop, Gemma's had several bad things happen to her in the past. She's also got a secret. Answers won't come for a while, or all at once, but I'd love to hear any guesses.

I'm seeing BOTFA tonight! I'm geeking out so hard right now! Ahh! I can't wait to see what doors the final movie will open up for this story.

Review?