Chapter Eight

A Potential Problem

Thorin led a group to find the trolls' hoard amongst the caves they'd stumbled upon after their quarry had turned to stone, commanding the rest of them to pack up camp and meet them back at the caves once they were finished.

Kate, naturally, got left behind as Thorin and Gandalf led their party into the woods without so much as even a thank-you for all her hard work. Yes, perhaps her plan didn't go quite as smoothly as she'd hoped, but they'd made it out alive, hadn't they? That ought to count for something in her book, but she swallowed down her bitterness and instead focused on the task at hand, which required burying the ashes from their fire and scattering the blackened kindling to make it look like there'd never been a fire in the first place. It was boring, mindless work, and since she hadn't gotten the opportunity to sleep the night before, it was making her sluggish and irritable.

Stupid, ungrateful dwarf, she thought vehemently, glaring in the direction Thorin had gone as she kicked dirt over their fire. Thanks for risking your life, Kate! You could've been eaten or crushed to death by massive trolls, but you managed to save all of us and the ponies! How could I ever doubt you?

Whatever. I don't need his gratitude. I just need him to see how far I'm willing to go to help him and his Company. His trust is what I'm after – not his approval.

For some reason, this put her in a fouler mood than before, and she stomped away the ashes under her boots vigorously, grumbling to herself all the while.

"Everything looks good," said Fíli to the rest of them. "Let's head back to the caves."

With their packs and supplies in hand, the rest of their party trekked through the woods, following the dreadful scent that indicated the troll hoard was nearby. Kate refrained from gagging at the smell, breathing deeply through her mouth and out her nose. She was so intent on her breathing technique that she hadn't noticed Bilbo walking by her side until he spoke.

"I'm sorry, Kate," he said, looking down at his feet with furrowed brows.

"What for?" she said, baffled.

"I mucked up your plan," he said miserably. "We could've made it out of there without a fight, but I had to go and ruin everything. It was my fault too for getting caught – I tried to rescue the ponies, but the trolls saw me—"

Kate put a hand on his shoulder to silence him. "Bilbo," she said firmly, "you did everything you could. Sometimes things don't go the way we plan. You can't blame yourself for it. If anything, we were the ones who made the mistake of staying when Gandalf recommended we find somewhere else. So, really, all of us messed up in a way."

The hobbit still looked quite downtrodden, but before Kate could say more, she was hit with quite possibly the worst scent she had ever smelled – some vile combination of rotting meat, excrement, and the musty smell of a cave. She dry-heaved into her sleeve as Bilbo pinched his nose, waving the air in front of him in vain, and the dwarves that were with them began to groan and grumble at the smell.

"Guess we found the troll hoard," she rasped through watering eyes. "Jesus, this place reeks."

"Let's go sit over here," said Bilbo, leading her away from the cave mouth, where the stench was the worst. They stayed in sight of the Company and the cave, but at least Kate could now breathe without feeling like she was about to vomit.

They sat in silence for a moment, basking in the relief of having escaped such a horrendous stench, before Bilbo turned to her hesitantly. "Kate, do you mind if I ask you something?"

"Go for it," she said, too distracted by swatting a fly away to notice the true nature of his question.

"Well, it's just that – and I'm not the only one who's noticed, either – just, ah… Why do you speak so strangely?" He said this last part in a rush, and Kate abandoned her fruitless defense against the fly, letting it buzz around her head as she stared at Bilbo, panic blooming in her belly.

"What?" she said, stalling for time, and Bilbo scratched his cheek absently, looking increasingly awkward.

"I mean, besides the things you say that don't make any sense – like earlier when you said that Jesus word – your accent is very…peculiar." He glanced at her sidelong, where she had frozen much like the trolls had when they turned to stone. "I guess I – we – were just curious."

Kate sat, still and quiet, even though her mind was running in circles and screaming desperately. She'd always tried to be careful about her speech in Middle-earth – after all, a Bostonian accent was hard to get rid of overnight, and she wasn't used to speaking like some thirteenth-century noble – but she guessed she'd done a poor job of hiding it if Bilbo and the others had begun to pick up on it. Perhaps Thorin had something to do with it, as well; since he already knew where she truly came from, she'd let her guard down just a little bit around him, but she supposed she forgot to put it back up around everyone else. The thought only made her angrier at the dwarf for denying her to tell the truth to the others, and she breathed deeply to calm herself before attempting to answer Bilbo in a way that wouldn't make him more suspicious or get her into deeper shit with Thorin.

Fortunately, whatever higher power was watching over her (she refused to believe it was Mahal) spared her from explaining an impossible situation, for at that moment the party from the troll hoard emerged from the cave, coughing and cursing, and they turned to see Gandalf walking toward them, a small sheathed blade in his hand and a new sword hanging from his hip.

Kate could have wept in relief at the sight of Gandalf and the elvish blades, leaping to her feet while Bilbo scrambled to stand from behind her.

"Bilbo, here," the wizard said, holding out the smaller blade to the hobbit. "See what you make of this."

While Bilbo spluttered over the weapon, Kate slipped away unnoticed, willing her heart to stop beating so damn fast. That had been a close call, but the most nerve-wracking thing to her was how many more of these questions would she have to dodge in the future? Bilbo had mentioned that the others had noticed her oddities as well, and if they suspected something was off with her, how was she supposed to accomplish anything?

I have to talk to Thorin, she concluded. I have to make him listen. I can't keep up this secret forever – I have to convince him to let me tell the others what I'm truly here for.

As if her thoughts had summoned him, the dark-haired dwarf appeared before her so suddenly that she ran directly into him, bouncing slightly off his chest. He didn't budge at all, of course, only looking at her in disgruntlement.

"Miss Miller," he said brusquely, inclining his head to her. "Can I help you?"

She stared at him incredulously for a few seconds, amazed by the audacity of his question, before saying, "Yes, actually. I have a bone to pick with you, but first, you can start off by saying thank you."

One of his eyebrows ticked up, but the rest of his face remained impassive, and her annoyance flared dangerously. "And what am I thanking you for?"

"How about rescuing Bilbo and the ponies from those trolls?"

His expression soured at this, but she crossed her arms adamantly.

"If I recall correctly, your plan resulted in you almost getting crushed to death by said trolls, leaving my company and I to interfere until the wizard's timely arrival," he said.

"So, maybe nothing went as planned," she said, "but at least I thought of something else before we went in charging blindly!"

Thorin sighed. "I concede that to you, Miss Miller, but that doesn't change the fact that you endangered my Company and yourself by thinking you could stroll into the heart of a troll's camp and leave unscathed."

"Then why did you agree to my plan?" she demanded before the answer fell right into her lap and brought her up short. "You were testing me," she accused. "You knew my plan sucked, but you wanted to see what I would do."

He nodded, not looking fazed in the least by her thunderous expression. "I told you, Miss Miller – I do not give my trust lightly. When you earn it, you'll know."

She scowled. "And have I earned it now?"

He said nothing, only sizing her up, and she tried not to squirm under his scrutiny, only meeting his eyes defiantly when they trailed back up to hers. He opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, a sudden crash echoed in the trees around them, and the Company froze instantly, already on their guard.

"What was that?" Kate said, her hand moving to the grip of her sword, but Thorin shook his head, as confused as she was.

"Together!" Thorin cried, striding to stand at the head of the Company as they scurried into a pack. "On me!"

Kate took a position between Bilbo and Gandalf, subtly positioning herself in front of the hobbit as they all looked around wildly at the sounds of snapping branches and rustling undergrowth. Whatever was coming was big and was heading right for them, and Kate drew her sword as Gandalf did the same next to her.

"THIEVES! FIRE! MURDER!"

Someone was yelling, and the crashing became louder, the ground beginning to tremble beneath their feet the closer it got. Kate and Gandalf exchanged a hard glance, and Thorin barked something in the dwarf tongue just as a massive shape broke through the trees and into their clearing.

Rabbits. That was Kate's first impression. She blinked, hard, but when she opened her eyes again, there were still…rabbits. Drawing a sleigh. With what looked like Gandalf's deranged hippie cousin hitching a ride…on the sleigh…pulled by rabbits.

"What the hell?" she said aloud.

"Um, what she said," said Bilbo faintly from behind her.

"Radagast?" Gandalf said, surprised. Then, to everyone: "It is Radagast the Brown! Lower your weapons, Master Dwarves. Let me see what he is doing here."

"Gandalf, thank goodness!" the man named Radagast said, nearly tumbling into the other wizard's arms in relief. "Spiders – the Greenwood – darkness—"

"Come, Radagast," said Gandalf, leading the Brown Wizard away from the others as he continued to ramble. They disappeared into the surrounding trees, and Kate sheathed her sword with a huff. Looks like I don't get to name you today, buddy.

The Company had started to disperse now that the threat had passed, but Kate kept to the edges of the group, suddenly apprehensive to speak to anyone now that she was aware of their suspicions.

She wandered to the opposite side of the clearing and found an uprooted tree covered in moss that she used as a seat, plopping herself down with a sigh. She was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to sleep, but Mahal must've been particularly finicky with her that day, for no sooner had her butt touched the bark than Thorin was back, standing over her with a frown.

"Yes?" she said, raising a brow when he did not immediately speak. "Nice sword, by the way." She nodded to the new elvish blade he carried, and he scowled. "Vintage is in, last I heard."

He didn't laugh. She sighed.

"You've earned it," he said, and her head snapped up in surprise. He gazed at her steadily, his eyes clear and calm, and she gaped at him like a fish out of water. "Tonight, you will tell the others about your mark."

"But…why?" she asked, astonished. "I mean, what made you change your mind?"

His lips curled ever so slightly in a wry smirk, and she listened, amazed, as he said, "It's not every day someone poses as a sorceress of the wood and risks their life to protect your kin."

Kate stared for several moments, temporarily speechless until her mouth split into a wide grin, a laugh bubbling in her chest. Thorin smiled – a true, genuine smile – and she thought the trolls must have killed her after all at the sight of it. The odd swoop she felt in her stomach made her realize that she was still very much alive, however, and that she now had another potential problem on her hands that had everything to do with Thorin Oakenshield once again, but for an entirely different reason.

After a few moments, Thorin shifted and cleared his throat, glancing at a spot over her shoulder while Kate forced herself to stop smiling, wondering if he had somehow been able to read her thoughts. Before she could conjure something else to say, Thorin's hand had locked her shoulder in a vice grip, and she looked up, startled, to see him frozen over her, his eyes latched on something behind her.

"Miss Miller," he said, very quietly, "do not move."

Her spine had locked in place at the warning in his tone, and she sat, listening, as the bushes behind her rustled. There was another sound too, this one low and deep, almost vibrating in her chest, and she realized with a flash of fear that it was a growl.

"A wolf?" she whispered. Her shoulder was beginning to ache from how hard he was gripping it, and he shook his head slowly.

"Worse," he said.

And then it lunged.

Kate was shoved facedown on the ground as the creature leaped out of the bushes with a roar, its paws hitting the dirt only a few feet from her head and kicking dust into her eyes. She blinked rapidly, trying to see through the tears that had sprung forth, as all around them the woods came alive with snarls, shouts, and the ring of weapons as they were attacked.

Scrabbling for her sword, Kate lurched to her knees and managed to yank it from her scabbard, still blinking the dirt and tears from her vision. Her sight cleared, only for a monstrous, furry beast to keel over, dead, before her, its open maw spraying her with saliva and blood from its last breath. Thorin stood over the giant wolf-like creature, his new sword coated in red, and his eyes were blown wide when they met hers over the corpse. She realized, belatedly, that he had just saved her life, but before she could say anything, his hand was out, reaching for her.

"Come," he urged. "There are others."

She grasped his hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet, and they ran into the clearing just in time to see Kíli take down one of the beasts with a well-placed arrow as Dwalin, Bofur, and Bifur killed another with a savage blow to its head.

"Warg scouts!" Thorin said. "Which means an orc pack is not far behind."

"Orc pack?" Bilbo squeaked, staring with an ill expression at the warg Dwalin had crushed to death with his ax.

Gandalf and Radagast had rushed to meet them during the commotion, and the Grey Wizard whirled on Thorin with a thunderous expression.

"Who did you tell of your quest, beyond your kin?" he demanded.

"No one," Thorin said.

"Who did you tell?" he repeated.

"No one, I swear!" Thorin's eyes nearly shot sparks as he took a step toward the wizard, accidentally dragging Kate along with him as he seemed to have forgotten his hold on her hand. "What in Durin's name is going on?"

"You are being hunted," said Gandalf gravely, and the Company collectively shuddered at his ominous tone as he turned on Kate. "Did you know about this?"

"W-what?" she said.

Gandalf seemed as if he wanted to bash her over the head with his staff. "Did you know of this?"

It took her a few moments to register what he was asking her; he wanted to know if her "foresight" had seen the attack coming, but she didn't remember the Company being attacked by wargs or orcs until much later in the story.

She shook her head mutely, her eyes straying to the drying blood on Thorin's blade, and Gandalf cursed.

"We have to get out of here," Dwalin said. "It's not safe."

"We can't," Ori said. "The ponies have bolted!"

"I'll draw them off," Radagast said. "I'd like to see a warg try and outrun my Rhosgobels!"

"Don't be absurd," Gandalf protested. "These are Gundabad wargs; they will hunt you down."

"You're short on options, friend," the Brown Wizard said. "Go; I'll cover you."

"He's right," Thorin said, nodding to the other wizard. "We have to go, now."

Gandalf was displeased, but he swept off with a last nod, ordering the Company to follow him. Kate stood, dazed, her eyes still glued to the blood and gore on Thorin's sword. When Thorin noticed that she wasn't moving, he released her hand and placed his own on the back of her neck, forcing her to look at him.

"I need you with us, Miss Miller," he said. "I need you to run, and not look back, no matter what happens. Can you do that?"

"Oh, God," she said. Her voice came out in a whimper as the gravity of their situation finally hit her, and she suddenly felt nauseous. "Oh, my God."

"Miss Miller." Thorin shook her head slightly so her eyes would focus back on him. "Kate." At the sound of her name, her gaze snapped to his, and she found herself back in her body again when she met the heavy blue of his eyes, grounded and aware as the fog that had been there a moment before dissipated. "Can you do that for me?"

"Run," she said, nodding. "Don't look back. Yeah. Got it."

"Good," he said, starting after the others. "Now, come; I don't want to be here when the orcs catch up."

Mahal, if you can hear me, meet me behind the bleachers after school, you giant bastard. I'm gonna kick your godly ass for this.

Kate knew what she had gotten herself into when she made that deal with the Vala, but her knowledge of the story and future events had given her a false sense of security, she realized too late; a sense that had been dashed away as soon as Thorin had struck down that first warg. She knew now that nothing could have prepared her for being hunted through open terrain by bloodthirsty wargs and orcs as Gandalf led the Company to…wherever he was leading them. Preferably somewhere safe.

The afternoon sun beat down mercilessly upon them as they sprinted through a sparse landscape, dotted only here and there with clusters of grey boulders. They had left the safety of the tree cover behind, and Kate panicked at how exposed they were as they ran from rock to rock, only stopping a few moments each time for Radagast to lead the hunting party away from them before they were back to running.

Kate had sheathed her blade shortly after they'd begun running, realizing that sprinting with a heavy sword in your hand not only slowed you down but weighed like hell on your arm. She could hear the excited shouts and cries of the orcs as they pursued Radagast and his rabbits, and the ground trembled beneath their feet from the heavy footfalls of the wargs as they gave chase.

"Stop!" Gandalf said, and the Company froze behind a large cluster of rocks, throwing their backs against the stone as Radagast led the hunters right by them, far too close for comfort. Kate's chest heaved with every breath, and the rocks dug into her back painfully, but she didn't dare move until Gandalf signaled them on.

"Where are you leading us?" Thorin said to Gandalf as she passed him, but if the wizard answered him, she didn't hear it, already back to running through the long golden grass that whipped at her legs and threatened to trip her up.

"Take cover!" Dwalin shouted, throwing himself behind another boulder as the hunters passed on a ridge just above them. The Company piled behind the rocks, but Ori slipped and tumbled into the grass, letting out a pained yelp as he fell.

"Ori, no!" Dori gasped, but Thorin had flung himself after the other dwarf, hoisting him by his collar back into the cover of the rocks just as the hunting party passed.

The sounds of the hunters faded once again, and they let out a collective breath of relief until something heavy thudded against the rocks above them. Kate shivered involuntarily as the sound of claws scraping on stone echoed down to their little crag where they had taken shelter, and a snuffing noise had started up – the warg was sniffing for them.

From the corner of her eye, Kate saw Thorin nod to Kíli, who nocked his bow slowly, carefully. When the warg growled, he pushed off from the rock and fired, and the arrow sank into the beast's throat as it toppled off the boulder and landed in a crumpled heap in front of them.

The warg hadn't been alone. Kate flinched back as its orc rider pushed itself to its feet, shrieking wildly and charging, weapon drawn. Thorin and Dwalin ran to meet it as Kíli strung another arrow, but the orc was too close to take the shot without risk.

Kate watched in horror as the two dwarves slashed and jabbed at the orc, a stunted, mutated creature that looked like something straight out of her nightmares. They were making far too much noise, she thought; the orc was deliberately causing a racket, so the others would hear and turn their attention from Radagast to the Company, and the ring of weapons from Thorin and Dwalin's blows was only making it worse.

"Kíli," she whispered, gripping the dwarf's wrist. "You have to shoot it. Now."

"I can't get a shot," he said. "They're too close."

"Do you have a sword or not?" she hissed, but it would take too long for him to draw it. "Screw it, I'll do it."

She unsheathed her sword and darted forward, aiming for the orc's unprotected back as it fended off the dwarves' blows. Her momentum carried her straight into it, and her sword punched through its boiled leather armor easily, slicing through its mottled skin and muscle before jarring to a halt once the blade hit bone, sending shockwaves up her arm as she and the orc toppled to the ground.

The orc rolled, dislodging her blade and taking her with it, until it sat atop her chest and screamed, its oily black blood spurting into her face and blinding her. It pulled a knife from its belt, a wicked, curved thing that could gut her easily, and she raised her arm to block it out of reflex as the blade slashed down, aiming for her throat.

Before it could get there, an ax buried itself in the orc's skull, splitting it in half and spattering her with more black blood and bits of brain that had her retching in the grass as its body slid off her. She vaguely registered that there was some red blood, as well – her blood. Though the orc's blade hadn't touched her throat, it had still managed to catch her arm from where she'd had it raised, and her sleeve was now stained red.

"Oh, that's bad," she groaned just as she was yanked to her feet by Thorin. "Shit, ow! Let go, dammit, that hurts!"

Thorin was heedless to her protests, his eyes piercing her with an unspoken fury as he shoved her back toward the Company, picking up her sword from where it had fallen next to the dead orc.

"Go!" he barked at them. "They're coming."

Indeed, the howls of the wargs were nearly upon them, and Gandalf led them across the plains at a speed that should have been impossible for any mortal man his age. Kate stumbled when she tried to follow, her arm now dripping blood, and she fought the urge to gag as the golden grass beneath her slowly started to turn red.

"C'mon, Kate." Bofur was at her side now, gazing at her tattered sleeve in concern. He gently nudged her back with his hand, though she could sense his urgency and fear. "We need to go."

She nodded dumbly, somehow managing to put one foot in front of the other as she jogged behind the rest of the Company. Every step made her arm scream in agony, and she registered vaguely that she would have to stop the bleeding soon, or else she'd likely pass out. Now was certainly not the time for that, however, as the wargs were steadily gaining on them, and she gritted her teeth and willed her legs to pump faster.

Bofur let out a loud swear from behind her. "They're cutting us off!"

Wargs and their riders had sprinted ahead of them to block their way forward, and suddenly they were surrounded, stranded on open ground with nothing but a pile of rocks a few meters away to shelter them from the hunters.

"Get to the rocks!" Gandalf shouted.

"Half of you, with me," Thorin commanded. "We need to hold them off as long as possible." He still had her sword in his left hand while his right yielded his new elvish blade – Orcrist, she remembered numbly – and he twirled them both as the wargs crept closer, their pace almost languid now that they knew the Company was trapped.

"Kate, let's go," Bofur said, tugging her back toward the rocks where the others were fleeing as Thorin, Dwalin, Fíli, Kíli, Glóin, and Dori stayed back, taking up defensive positions around their perimeter.

Her vision was beginning to go in and out of focus, and her breath scraped against her lungs, rasping loudly in her ears. She was barely aware of her body moving as Bofur guided her to the rocks, and she could only watch, helpless, as the hunters pressed closer.

Suddenly, the ground was gone, and Kate was tumbling down a rocky embankment, crying out whenever she landed on her arm until she had rolled into a limp tangle of limbs at the bottom, her arm throbbing and her head pounding from where she'd hit it on the way down.

"Get her up, quickly!"

She was pulled out of the way as Bofur landed heavily where she had been a moment before, and she could feel several hands propping her against a solid cave wall as she groaned, wishing everyone would stop manhandling her.

"How bad?" someone was saying. She couldn't pinpoint whose voice it was, but she knew it was familiar.

"I can't say." That grim and gruff tone was Óin, she recalled. "It's too dark in here."

Whatever reply was made was drowned out by the sound of a war horn coming from outside their cave in the rocks, and Kate tried to cover her ears at the noise, but she found that she couldn't raise her right arm.

The rest of the dwarves that had been fighting when she'd gone in were now entering the cave, sliding down the tunnel with much more grace than she had and joining the ones that had already been inside.

"What is it? What's going on?" Nori asked, but his answer was an orc tumbling down into their cave with a frightened squeal that was soon cut off once its neck broke from the fall.

Thorin appeared out of the gloom, spattered with blood as he bent down and pulled an arrow shaft from the orc's chest before spitting and tossing it aside. "Elves."

The dwarves all grumbled at this before Dwalin's voice called, "There's a pathway! Do we follow it or no?"

"Follow it, of course!" Bofur said, and the others muttered in agreement, picking themselves off the cavern floor and shuffling after the burly dwarf.

Óin knelt in front of Kate, his brow furrowed as he gently lifted her arm. A stab of pain went through the limb, and she let out a distressed moan, not having the energy or the breath to cry out. Thorin dropped to his knees beside the healer, looking between him and Kate with hooded eyes.

"Will she be all right?" he asked.

Óin shook his head in frustration. "I need more light. But this—"

He peeled back her sleeve and gasped. Kate stirred, wondering if the cut was really that bad, until she saw the dwarf's white face and wide eyes, staring at something inked into her flesh, visible now that he had moved the bloodied sleeve.

"Oh," she slurred, "yeah, that's – that's something…you probably shouldn't have seen yet… Just don't touch—"

The dwarf's thumb grazed the mark, and Kate nearly screamed as Mahal's voice rushed through her, as loud and rumbling as tectonic plates brushing against each other under the earth's surface: "Do not fear, she is the Heart."

"God, what does that mean?" she said, but if Mahal had any answers for her, she couldn't hear them, for she had already passed out cold.