Baylee let out a soft curse as she started to wake up. Every inch of her body ached, but as she tried to roll from her stomach to her side, she found that her shoulders hurt the most. As she attempted to roll over a second time, though, she discovered that her hands hand been bound behind her back; her legs, too, had been bound, both at her knees and at her ankles.
She stopped moving, her brows furrowing as she tried to recall anything that could have led to her being tied up. 'I was talking with Fifika,' she thought. 'It wasn't even dawn yet…but then we heard thunder. No. Not thunder. Wargs…ridden by the raiders.' Her lip drew back in a small, silent snarl. 'And by Mannus.'
Anger swelled up inside her as she recalled him mockingly calling out to Rán—Rán, who had tried so hard to reach her in time to save her. She could remember seeing the fast-blurring figure of Rán running as fast as he could after them, but with a warg as his mount, Mannus had easily gotten away from him.
She could hear voices around her—mostly female, but occasionally, a male's voice would break through—as well as the beastly growls and grunts of nearby wargs. Finally, she opened her eyes, only to discover it was dark and that she was facing away from the fires. Her eyes not needing time to adjust to the dim light meant that she almost instantly saw Ori and Fili just a few yards from her, both struggling on the ground.
Like her, they had their hands bound behind their backs, but while Ori had his legs tied at the knee and ankle, it looked like Fili had been hogtied. For a few seconds, she wondered why Fili had been tied up differently…until she saw his right trouser leg laying limply on the ground.
Their captors had taken his wooden leg.
Instead of trying to roll over, she instead tried to wriggle her way closer to the pair. "Fili? Ori?" she whispered, hoping they could hear her. "Are either o' you hurt?"
Fili looked up at her while Ori had to turn his head to try and look at her from over his shoulder. "Baylee?" whispered the latter. "Oh, thank Mahal, you're awake!"
"You've been unconscious all day," Fili whispered. He glanced behind her, making sure no one was coming over to shut them up. "Ori and I are relatively fine. We've got some bumps and bruises, but nothing serious. What about you?"
"My shoulders ache something terrible, but I think that's it," she replied. "Are you sure neither o' you are hurt badly…?"
"Aye, we're fine," Ori assured her. He grunted and rolled himself onto his back. "I got captured after one of the raiders knocked me upside the head while Fili was tackled and pinned by some of them."
"The bastards somehow figured out about my leg and took it from me," Fili quietly growled. "They left it back at the attack site."
Baylee grumbled under her breath. "I think Mannus somehow found out about it and told them." She managed to shake her head. "Do either o' you two know how many raiders there are…?"
"Around twenty," Fili answered. "They're mostly made up of human women, though there are around four human men and, oddly, five orcs."
Her brows furrowed deeper. "Orcs…?"
"Aye, orcs," Ori replied. "They're not the short, scraggly kind, either. They're taller."
"Like the ones from the War?"
Fili shook his head. "No. They don't look like those orcs. They're taller like them, aye, but they're leaner and their skin is more greenish than pale." He sighed. "But that's all we really know about them. We haven't been able to get a very good look at them."
"Something tells me we're going t' have plenty o' time t' get a good look at them in the comin' days," Ori sighed. "Maybe even weeks. Mahal help us if we're stuck with these raiders any longer than that…"
"I'm sad t' say that we'll definitely be stuck with them for much longer than that," Baylee grunted, trying to wriggle her hands free of the ropes. It was of no use, though: The ropes, though not tight enough to cut off circulation, were tight enough to render her unable to escape. And with her knees bound, she couldn't bring her legs up close enough to her chest to try and slip her arms underneath her. "Have you spoken with them?"
"No," Fili replied. "Other than grunts and curses in Khuzdul, we haven't said anything to them."
"Good. Don't speak anything except Khuzdul or Iglishmêk with them."
Ori and Fili exchanged confused looks before looking at Baylee. "Why not?" asked the former.
"Because if you only use Khuzdul and Iglishmêk, they'll need a translator," she explained, "an' since I know Iglishmêk, they can't separate us. Which means it'll be somewhat easier for any rescue parties t' get us all back."
Fili blinked, surprised by the idea. "That's…actually fairly ingenious, Baylee. How did you come up with that so fast?"
Her cheeks pinkened slightly, though it wasn't visible in the dim light. "It wasn't my idea," she admitted. "It was Rán's. With Mannus bein' part o' the raiders, he came up with a few different things t' hopefully keep me away from him as best as possible."
"An' what if we hadn't been kidnapped as well?" Ori asked.
"Then I was t' tell the head o' the raiders that Bard would pay a hefty sum for my return in hopes that their lust for gold was stronger than their sense o' loyalty t' Mannus—if they have any, that is."
The two males nodded in understanding. Ori opened his mouth to ask something, but then Fili nodded his head towards Baylee and spoke. "Ramuk."
Her brows furrowed and she turned her head only to squint against the firelight. Through her squinting, though, she could see a figure making their way towards the three captives. She couldn't make out whether the silhouette belonged to a male or a female, let alone a human or an orc—just that they walked with the confident swagger of someone in a position of power.
"Ah, the little ones are awake, eh? Was wondering if would wake before dawn." The voice belonged to a female. She turned her head and called back to her companions, speaking in an unfamiliar tongue before looking back down at the three. "Betting you are hungry, yes? No worry. Gelvira and Divya will bring food. But must behave! No trying to escape. Wouldn't want wargs to make snacks of you, yes?"
Baylee swallowed hard as the woman crouched down beside her and started to untie her ankles and thighs. "Where are you taking us?" she demanded. She could see two more silhouettes coming towards them; one was quite broad while the other was short, making her wonder which was Gelvira and which was Divya.
The woman let out a laugh, though the sound more resembled a dog's bark. "Are taking you to betira," she said before pausing for a few seconds. "Home," she then translated. "Are taking you to our home." With Baylee's legs now free, she grabbed the back of her dress and pulled her to her feet with relative ease. "Come. You dine in tent with Vlasta and Mannus."
"N-No! I need to stay with the dwarves!" She tried to shrug away from the woman, but she had a firm grip on her dress. "I'm their translator—they don't understand much o' the common tongue!" She glanced over her shoulder at Fili and Ori as she was half led, half dragged away, biting her lower lip.
The woman dismissively waved her free hand. "Eh, they will be fine. Are just going to eat. Good prisoners stay quiet unless talked to first, anyway."
'There goes that plan,' Baylee thought, frowning.
As she was led across the camp, she made sure to glance around and take in their surroundings. From what she could see, there were only two tents, with one being only a little larger than the other; both were lit up by a single lantern. There were also three different campfires, each with a small group of people—and some wargs—around it. Where the rest of the wargs were, however, she couldn't tell, leaving her to suspect they were laying in the grass, away from the firelight.
Beside her, the woman chuckled. "Are very short," she commented. "Would have thought dwarf if not for smooth face and no breasts. Do have nice rump, though. Must be reason why Mannus wants you."
The comments made Baylee's cheeks burn with embarrassment and she shuddered in disgust at the mention of Mannus wanting her. "Mannus can go sit on a spear for all I care," she grumbled before she could stop herself.
"Mannus is reason are not hurt, tiny one," the woman said, her brow raised. "Should be more thankful to him."
"That man has done nothin' t' deserve my thanks. Only my hatred."
The woman said nothing, though she did make a soft 'hmm' sound.
When they approached the larger of the two tents, she said something in her language and, from within, another voice replied—this one male and all-too familiar. Baylee felt her heart begin to race as the pair stepped through the canvas opening only to be greeted by the sight of Mannus sitting on the ground beside a low table. Three, thick blankets had been folded to act as cushions for those who were to be seated around it.
A soft grunt left her lips as the woman pushed down on her shoulder, forcing her to sit before untying her wrists. She tossed the rope out of Baylee's reach before standing and speaking to Mannus in her native tongue once more. He replied in the same language and made a shooing motion with his hand at her. Baylee heard a soft growl leave her throat as she turned and left.
"How are you feelin', Miss Braddock?" Mannus questioned, sliding one of the drinking flasks towards her.
She eyed him cautiously, ignoring the flask despite the ache in her throat. "Like I would rather be sittin' amongst the wargs than be in here with you," she retorted, rubbing her rope-chaffed wrists. Looking at the table, she found three bowls filled with food, a plate of flatbread, and a few drinking flasks sitting at each of the three spots.
Curiously, she noticed how there was no cutlery at the table.
He clicked his tongue in mock disappointment. "Is that any way t' be talking t' your savior, my darling?" he questioned. "If it hadn't been for me, you might've been a snack for one o' those wargs."
"If it hadn't been for you, I wouldn't have been drugged. Instead, I'd be back home at the Tankard by now."
Lightly shaking his head, he leaned back slightly, resting his weight on one hand behind him. "I'm afraid you won't be seeing the Tankard again any time soon," he told her. "Truthfully, you'll probably never see it again should all go well with my plan."
"All won't go well with your plan," she sneered. "Rán will find us an' take us home."
He snorted, looking more amused than threatened. "That half-breed bastard can search all he wants, but he won't be able t' find us. Not where we're goin'." Picking up his own flask, he used his thumb to flick the cork out of it before taking a drink.
Her eyes narrowed and she felt her jaw tighten slightly as he called Rán a 'half-breed'. "Rán has his other rangers t' help him. And Lovisa." A hint of a smirk came to her lips when she saw worry briefly pass through Mannus' eyes. "That's not including the dwarves Thorin will be sendin' t' retrieve Fili an' Ori."
"A shame that dwarves are only good at finding precious metals an' gems, then, isn't it?" He corked his flask and set it on the table once more. "I have absolutely no worries about bein' found, especially by creatures wasted on cross-country treks."
"An' yet you looked a bit worried when I mentioned Lovisa just now."
"A skilled tracker she may be, but where we're goin', not even she can find us. Queen Muna has spent nearly a decade searchin' for the city, after all, an' her people haven't been able to find any trace o' it. And, if I recall correctly, Rán an' his rangers were the group she had put in charge o' finding the city. So, aye, there's little worry about him finding it."
Baylee bit her tongue—not because she thought Mannus was right, but because she had been about to blurt out how Rán and his rangers had found a clue as to the city's whereabouts just a couple of months ago.
A clue that had come about because Mannus' meeting with some of the raiders just a few miles south of the city.
She crossed her arms over her chest. "An' what, exactly, do you plan on doin' with me once we reach this 'hidden city'?"
"Isn't it obvious, my darling? I intend t' make you my bride."
Her lip drew back in a small sneer as she shuddered in disgust; she knew she should have expected such an answer from him, but it was still a bit of a shock to have him admit it so blatantly. "If you honestly think I'm goin' t' just willingly marry you after everythin' you've done, Mannus, then you must've hit your head when you made the Hen explode," she snapped.
"I'm afraid you have no choice, my darling—"
"Stop callin' me that."
"—As you are my captive now," he continued, ignoring her interjection, "I decide your fate. Unless you would rather be a lowly slave…or worse: A prostitute."
She crossed her arms over her chest. "I'd rather be a slave."
He chuckled softly as he once again picked up his flask. "You say that now, but I believe in the long term, you would be much happier as my wife."
Before she could say anything in reply to that, however, the flaps to the tent were pushed open as someone walked in. She turned only to find a tall, muscular woman walking towards them, her dark hair pulled back into a high ponytail. As she came further into the light, Baylee could see that the woman's golden skin was marred by dozens upon dozens of scars; many looked to be claw marks, making her wonder if they were the result of raising wargs to be mounts.
The woman—Vlasta, as she recalled the other raider naming her—sat down at the head of the table, directly across from Baylee. She was silent as she plucked up her drinking flask and uncorked it. Mannus said nothing, either, and merely corked his flask before setting it back down on the table.
When she had drank her fill, Vlasta corked her flask and set it on the ground beside her. Then, leaning forward, she rested her elbow on the table, her chin propped in her palm as she looked Baylee over. The smaller woman could see that her face was not free from scars—indeed, she had many crisscrossing over her nose and lips, though there were some particularly brutal scars going from her forehead all the way down to her jaw.
"Hm," she said after a long moment. "You are smaller than I was led to expect. Almost worryingly small." As she spoke, she threw a small, wary look to Mannus. "How old are you, child?" Though her voice was soft, it was also deep and bore an air of authority to it.
"I-I'll be thirty in a few days," she replied. Her reply made her frown; was it really that close to her and Will's birthday? Or maybe it had already passed while she had been unconscious? It was hard to tell.
"Hm." Sitting upright, she motioned at the flask in front of Baylee. "Drink. Your voice sounds dry like the summer wind." She turned her head to look at Mannus. "You are lucky you did not lie about her age."
Mannus frowned. "I would never do such a thing, your greatness," he said. "As I recall, I told you that she was smaller than an average Laketowner, despite havin' seen over twenty-five summers."
Vlasta's brow rose. "You forget that that description gives me very little in the way information," she replied, her tone dry. "I have never seen a Laketowner to know what their average height is. For all I know, you could be short for a Laketowner."
Baylee quietly snorted against the flask as she took a drink; the sound earned a scolding look from Mannus. "Sadly, he's on the tall side for one o' us," she said. "Though, there are plenty o' men taller than him."
"Don't talk out of turn," Mannus hissed, but he was quickly silenced as Vlasta held her hand up to him.
"You do not give the orders, Mannus," she scolded. "She may be your captive for now, but I am the captain here and I give her permission to speak as she pleases."
Baylee's brow rose ever so slightly at the 'for now' part, but she wouldn't comment on it just yet.
"Apologies, your greatness," Mannus grumbled, his gaze falling to his bowl. He still did not dare touch his food; Baylee supposed he was waiting for Vlasta to begin eating first.
Looking back at Baylee, Vlasta reached forward and grabbed one of the pieces of flatbread. "Mannus tells me your name is Baylee?"
"Aye."
She nodded in understanding; she tore off a piece of the flatbread and that must've been some signal, because Mannus reached for a piece now as well. "And you are a baker?"
"Somewhat." Mannus handed her the piece of flatbread, but rather than taking it, she leaned forward and picked one out herself.
"Somewhat?" The corners of her mouth turned somewhat upwards in amusement as she watched Baylee's defiance.
Mannus, however, pouted and resorted to tearing off some of the flatbread for himself.
"I work in my family's inn. I bake, clean, serve food an' drinks, as well as whatever other chores that are needin' done." She glanced between the pair, watching them as they used the flatbread as a utensil to scoop the contents from the bowl into their mouths. Tearing off a bit, she looked down into the bowl to find it filled with a mixture of rice, meat, and what looked like rehydrated fruit. She didn't know what kind of fruit, though.
"You tear off a length of bread an' then pinch the food between it," Mannus explained when he saw her glancing between them. "Then it all goes in your mouth. No utensils t' dirty an' the bread acts as filler t' make the food go further, especially while travelin'. It's the preferred method o' eatin' for when the Izerkhe'uti are on the road."
"…Izerkhe'uti?" Baylee repeated, brow rising slightly. She did as instructed, though, tearing off a small length of the bread before using it to pinch up a bite of food from the bowl.
"It is what my people call themselves," Vlasta told her. "In the common tongue, it can be translated as 'The Exiled Ones'." A humorless smirk came to her lips. "The people of Dorwinion would rather call us 'Madazaq'uti'—the Damned Ones."
Her brows furrowed as she chewed the food; while it looked fairly plain, the food was actually heavily spiced and quite good. Most of the flavors she could recognize—pepper, cinnamon, onion, bay—but there were also some flavors she couldn't quite place. After swallowing her bite, she asked, "Why do they call you that?"
Mannus threw her a warning look, but she ignored it. He may have been among these people for longer, but so far, Vlasta seemed to hold little respect for the man.
"Because those that founded our sanctuary were once prisoners, held in one of Dorwinion's prison camps," Vlasta explained. She tore off a few strips of bread as she spoke. "Their crimes ranged in harshness from petty theft to adultery to murder. But all had been sentenced to death." She scooped herself up a bite and popped it into her mouth.
"And that's all you really need t' know o' such matters," Mannus told Baylee. "Now eat. You're goin' t' need your strength. It's a long trip an' we'll be on warg-back the whole way."
She wanted to remind him that she had been riding horses since before she could walk, but she silenced herself with a bite of food. Riding on warg-back was going to be different anyway, she told herself. Wargs were a different shape from horses: Rather than being situated on a relative flat back, riding a warg was more along the lines of clinging onto the large hump on their back as they ran.
A tense silence fell between the three as they ate. Baylee knew both Mannus and Vlasta were watching her—the former out of lust and the latter out of caution—so she made sure to not do anything unexpected. She merely continued to tear off bits of bread and use it to feed herself.
Midway through the meal, someone outside of the tent spoke and, after Vlasta granted them permission, they entered the tent only to reveal themselves to be an orc. Baylee stiffened, her hand instinctively falling to her hip, but the knife Rán had given her was not there. This orc was like no other she had seen before, however.
She was female.
Baylee had never seen a female orc before—she hadn't even known there were female orcs. As most people, she thought they had been created from the spite and hatred of the Dark Lord. Like the males, the female's skin was mottled, but instead of grey-black or grey-white, it was green-brown and her hair was long, dark, and thin. Her eyes were hawk-like, yellow with narrow pupils, and her teeth were like sharp needles behind her black lips.
For a few moments, Vlasta and the orc woman exchanged words in their native language. Mannus seemed to pay them no heed, but as she continued to eat, Baylee did her best to try and see if she recognized any of the words. Realizing she didn't, however, she breathed a soft sigh.
"Divya says the dwarves are not speaking the common tongue when being asked things by their guards," Vlasta suddenly informed the two.
"They're probably speaking Khuzdul," Mannus said with a small shrug. "It's their mother tongue. They use it when talking amongst themselves."
Vlasta's brow rose slightly. "They should know the common tongue, though, yes?"
"Aye, they should."
"Then why are they not using it with the riders?"
Mannus frowned. "Perhaps they're just being stubborn? They should be using it, though, given that they interact with Men so much. An' Fili is a prince, so surely he, at least, should know more than one language. As for the other one…" He shrugged boredly. "He's not as important."
Baylee felt a surge of anger course through her at Mannus' dismissal of Ori. "Actually, Fili an' Ori don't speak Westron," she stated.
His frown grew and he cocked an eyebrow at her. "What? That's impossible! Fili most certainly has t' know Westron—he was just in town for a meeting with Bard!"
"Aye, but if you recall, Mannus, that meetin' was held at our inn," she countered, her brow rising. She could feel her heart beginning to race slightly; it seemed like her and Rán's plan was going to work after all. "An' that's because everyone in my family knows how t' use Iglishmêk." She looked at Vlasta. "That's the dwarven sign language, used in the forges an' by those who have no voice or hearin' abilities. I'm fluent in it an' I've been actin' as their translator. The two can understand some Westron, but they can't speak it very well."
Vlasta's brow rose slightly at the explanation and she muttered something to herself in her native tongue. Picking up her drinking flask, she sighed and used her thumb to uncork it as she rested her weight behind her on her free hand. "A crown prince who has no leg and cannot speak the common tongue…I thought dwarves praised capability? This one certainly doesn't seem very capable…"
"Fili is more than capable t' one day lead his people," Baylee snapped, making Mannus jump slightly. "Just because he's missin' a leg an' isn't fluent in a language doesn't mean he's—" She was abruptly cut off as Mannus lurched forward and clapped his hand over her mouth while his other hand tightly gripped her shoulder.
She froze, feeling the color starting to drain from her face and panic start to set in.
"Forgive her outburst, your greatness," he quickly told Vlasta, who looked unfazed by Baylee's sudden harshness. "She's quite protective of her friends—t' the point o' sometimes actin' rashly." Given that he had his gaze fixed on Vlasta, he was unable to see the fear that had filled Baylee's eyes.
She bit down on his finger, hard.
He cried out, yanking his hand away from her face and giving her the chance to throw herself away from him. As he hissed in pain and shook his hand, he looked at her only to find that Divya had moved just as fast as her; she was now kneeling beside the human, a fist in her hair and a knife to her neck.
Baylee, however, stared at Mannus, fear and anger in her eyes.
Vlasta unexpectedly let out a hearty laugh, making everyone jump in surprise. "The little one has quite a bit of pluck!" she grinned, leaning forward again and resting her hand on her knee. She wore a broad grin as she looked at the smaller human and Baylee could have sworn she saw a bit of pride in her dark eyes. "And here I thought she was just another polite western woman. Ha! I am glad to see I was wrong."
Glancing between Vlasta and Baylee, Divya slowly released the latter's hair and slowly stood up, sheathing her knife.
"Take her and her meal back to her companions," Vlasta then ordered, using Westron so that Mannus and Baylee would know what was about to happen. She took a drink from her flask before giving Mannus a sidelong glance. "I need to have a little talk with our benefactor here."
Mannus grumbled under his breath, still shaking his hand as his finger throbbed.
Divya nodded and pulled Baylee to her feet before letting her grab her bowl, flask, and an extra piece of flatbread. Setting her hand on her shoulder, she gently pushed her towards the entrance of the tent. Her brow rose slightly as they walked; Baylee was shaking.
Once they were out of earshot of the tent, she asked in broken Westron, "Mannus frighten you?"
Baylee swallowed hard, a bit surprised the orc was speaking Westron, let alone asking if she was afraid of Mannus. "…It's complicated." She knew to be cautious with her words; this woman was her enemy, after all. Anything she said could be used against her later.
"Hm." Her tone told Baylee that the orc saw right through her caution, though she supposed her shaking didn't help hide anything. "Are frightened, yes." She shook her head and made a disappointed clicking sound with her tongue. "Mannus lied. Said little human need rescue from other humans."
"Those other humans were my friends," she retorted, turning her head in an attempt to glance over her shoulder. She couldn't see much, however, thanks to a combination of her hair being in the way and the lack of light.
"Friends are far behind now. Now only friends are dwarves and Mannus, even if frighten by him," she warned her. "Riders not all nice like me, like Great One. Need keep friends close. Need behave—yes, need behave most important." She lightly gripped the top of Baylee's head, turning it so she could face the group of raiders. "One-eyed orc and red-tattoo human mean. Very mean, like wargs. Must behave or will hurt," she told her, her voice quiet so that only the human could hear.
Baylee's brows furrowed. "Why are you telling me this?"
Letting go of her head, she once again started to lightly press her in the direction of where Fili and Ori were. "Are not only one being here against will."
Baylee found herself wanting to inquire further, but didn't want to press her luck. Instead, she merely nodded in understanding and continued to go in the direction Divya steered her. Soon enough, she was sitting down alongside Ori and Fili, both of whom were attempting to eat their meal by awkwardly shoving bits of food from the bowl into their mouths.
When they spotted her coming, their eyes widened and Fili set his bowl down. 'Are you alright? Where did they take you?' he signed.
'I'm fine. I was taken to the leader's tent.' Sitting down, she set her bowl on the ground; Divya moved to sit down beside a woman a couple yards away; neither of them had food. 'You eat the food like this, by the way.' Tearing off a strip of bread, she showed them how to use it to pinch up the food.
'Thanks,' Ori signed. 'We were wondering what the bread was for. They kept telling us to use it as a spoon, so even if we hadn't been playing dumb to their use of Westron, we wouldn't have quite figured it out.'
'It's strange, but it makes sense for traveling,' she signed back. 'Other than confused about the food, are you two alright? They didn't hurt you or anything while I was gone, did they?'
'No. They just untied our hands and told us to eat,' Fili answered. 'Why were you taken to meet with Mannus and their leader?'
At that, she frowned and made a look of disgust. 'Mannus wanted to let me know his plans for me once we get to wherever it is we're going.'
Ori and Fili exchanged knowing looks with one another. 'He really thinks he can force you into marrying him, then," the latter stated.
She nodded.
'It won't work. We're not going to let it happen,' Ori assured her. 'We just need to make sure we manage to stick together.'
'Thankfully, the translating plan seems to be working,' she told them, chewing a bite of food. 'Mannus tried to say that you two were fluent in Westron, though, because you came to Dale for a meeting with Bard.'
'How did you prove him wrong?'
'By reminding him that you had come to our inn where we're fluent in Iglishmêk.' A mischievous grin came to her lips. 'That shut him up real fast, though I'm fairly certain he'll still try to find a way to keep me away from you two.' She fed herself another bite. 'I also bit his hand really hard.'
Ori nearly choked on his food, his eyes widening in shock. 'What!? Why did you do that!? Not that he didn't deserve it, I'm sure.'
'Vlasta—the leader of the raiders—insulted Fili and…I sort of went off on her,' she admitted. 'So Mannus clapped his hand over my mouth to make me stop talking. I…kind of panicked. Thankfully, Vlasta thought it was humorous and didn't have me punished.'
Fili frowned and his brow rose slightly. 'What do you mean, she insulted me?'
Baylee exhaled a quiet sigh. 'She said between your missing leg and your inability to speak in more than one language, you would not be a very capable leader.'
Ori bristled at that, and he opened his mouth, ready to start letting out a string of curses aimed at Vlasta, but it had been clear he was about to say them in Westron. Baylee subtly nodded towards the pair of females watching over them, which reminded him just in time and, thankfully, it was a string of Khuzdul that left his mouth. 'She's lucky she's not here right now or else I'd be throwing this food in her face for that!'
Shaking his head, Fili let out a halfhearted chuckle. 'I don't care if she insults me,' he told the others. 'Her opinion doesn't matter to me. But with that said, I appreciate you defending me, Baylee. If it happens again, though, please resist the temptation to say anything, alright? I don't want anything happening to you because you defended me.'
She nodded in understanding, an apologetic smile coming to her lips. 'I'll do my best. I should be able to hold my tongue so long as Mannus isn't around. I'm afraid being around him brings out the worst in me.'
'From what you've told us about him, I can't say that I'm surprised,' Ori signed. 'He sounds like a right git. Hard to believe Miss Adela came from a man as foul as him.' He shook his head, chewing a bite of food. 'Maybe if I'm around him, I'll trod on his toes extra hard…'
Both Fili and Baylee snorted quietly at that. 'If you have to be around him, maybe wait until he's sitting. Then you can trod extra hard on his boll—' Fili was cut off as Divya called over to them.
"More eat, less hand talk," she scolded. "Are in need of strength. Is long journey, much rough land to cover."
Not wanting to risk upsetting the guards, the trio did as instructed.
A/N: So uh. Hey there. Long time no see. Real life got real busy for a while there, combined with me just needing a break from writing after finishing Nightmares. It certainly didn't help that this was a hard chapter to write, given that I had to introduce new characters and get back into the groove of writing during a scene where Baylee has to interact with Mannus. And we all know how much Baylee loves to be around Mannus. -shudders- Yeah, future scenes with him are not going to be fun and will probably earn the chapters a content warning or two.
So, to those who have stuck around and waiting nearly a year for this chapter, thank you so much for your patience! And a big thanks to partygirl98, who kept checking in on me to make sure all is well 💙 You're a sweetheart!
On to the next PotC fic chapter!