Extremely early the next morning I forced myself awake before the others and quietly grabbed a few things from my saddle bags. I took a slightly different route down to the river to avoid some of the sleeping forms and came across the group of ponies picketed up in a grassy area. I patted a few of them as I picked my way back down to my fishing spot at the river's edge and, after looking around to make sure I was indeed alone, I quickly undressed and waded into the shallows. The fish had gone, but I had another objective anyway. The current was rather strong, so I didn't dare wander too far out but instead submerged myself at a depth I could still stand up at. It was a cold wash, but I had suddenly become hyperaware of my personal hygiene now that I was no longer alone. When I was finished, I dried off as best I could with a piece of leather and changed into my spare pair of trousers and tunic. Still shivering, I donned my thick coat and walked back to camp. By this time the whole group was awake and packing up.
One of the dwarves, Nori I thought his name was, had apparently been sent ahead to scout as he suddenly came jogging into our midst reporting that the road was clear. I felt a wash of relief flood through me, maybe my fear of pursuit had been unnecessary all this time. As the dwarves began to file out of camp, I held my horse back to bring up the rear and began to chew on a tough piece of jerky for breakfast. Though I felt a little less stiff and sore each day as I grew accustomed to the rigors of travel, keeping to a slower pace behind the group was a welcome change that my body thanked me for.
We soon approached the edge of the treeline and filed out onto the road. As we made our way towards the Last Bridge I still could not prevent myself from repeatedly looking back over my shoulder, and thus did not expect Thorin to suddenly call for a stop due to oncoming travellers ahead of us.
The first members of the group had just guided their ponies onto the bridge when three men on horseback appeared at the opposite side at a gallop. They reined in their mounts shortly after hitting the stones, the dust from their momentous approach swirling up around them as they faced down the approaching company.
"Halt!" The apparent leader of the trio shouted, still quite a considerable distance away.
My blood turned cold. It was the Innkeeper, and his hired sellswords. Thorin, after appraising the men from afar and apparently deeming them not enough of a threat to actually stall our progress, lazily urged us onward and allowed Gandalf to take the lead. I swung down off my horse before the men saw me, pulling up my hood and leading my horse along behind the others, heading towards the very person I was trying to run away from.
I heard the murmur of one of the mercenaries carry across the water, though I could not make out what was said, only my fiancé's reaction to the council.
"No - I will not be ignored by some halfwit vagabond and his hobbit entourage." The innkeeper surged forth to the middle of the bridge, and his lackeys followed more reluctantly - they, at least, seemed aware that they were facing up against dwarves, not hobbits. Our parties met, and immediately I could tell that my former husband-to-be regretted his decision. His horse skittered back a few paces as Gandalf passed, nodding civilly to the flustered man as he did. Thorin and his dwarves began to pass them by as well, neither slowing nor paying any heed at all to the three humans.
Finally I drew near, and despite being on the far side of my horse and having my hood drawn, something must have given me away.
"That's her." he snarled, pointing down the line at me. I faltered back in fear, tugging my horse a few paces and trying to calculate my odds of escape if I was forced to run.
"You'd best come here, girl, if you know what's good for you." he threatened, directing his steed towards me.
Gandalf had halted, and was looking back in his saddle towards the commotion. The rest of the procession had followed suit and I hoped that the desperate expression I shot them would make them realize that I would do anything to prevent going with the man. Perhaps they would take pity on me and see fit to help the damsel in distress that I so clearly was in that moment.
A few of the dwarves then dismounted, casually taking hold of their weapons. The sellswords caught up to their employer, but they worriedly eyed the party that I was accompanying - thirteen burly dwarves armed to the teeth - and made no move to get off their horses. The dwarves stared back, some with agitation, others with mild amusement.
"Get her!" the Innkeeper demanded, his face reddening deeply as he gestured in my direction. He swore and looked at his hesitant men with frustrated exasperation. "You fools! What do I pay you for?" He seethed.
From up ahead, I heard Thorin's gruff voice.
"Somebody end this foolish prattling."
An instant later, a weighty rounded river-stone collided with the man's shoulder - hard. I gawped as he clasped for purchase on his saddle, but to no avail. He fell into the river, where he floundered. I looked forward as laughter and cheers broke out, and saw one of the younger dwarves grinning from ear to ear and brandishing a slingshot.
"Move on." Thorin ordered calmly, and so we did. I walked dumbstruck past the mercenaries, who seemed in no hurry to throw their employer a line. I could see they were trying, to no avail, to conceal the smirks on their faces as they slowly unwound their ropes.
I crossed the rest of the bridge, the fading shouts of my ex-fiancé music to my ears, and sighed to myself when we made it to the opposite shore. In my mind, the bridge was the last obstacle to my freedom, and as I put it behind me I was determined to put everything else behind me as well.
When the path widened, Bofur slowed his pony's pace until I had almost caught up to him.
"Do you want to talk about what happened back there?" he asked, his voice cheery as usual.
I smiled to hide my discomfort. "I'm sorry about that. There shouldn't be any more trouble." I replied, trying to skirt the question.
"If you stick with us, lass, you're bound to see more trouble." he jested with a grin. I smiled back, grateful he didn't interrogate me further.
"You know," he continued after a few moments, glancing up at me once more "some of the lads almost took you for an elf when we first saw you yesterday."
I almost smiled. Elves were beautiful, much more so than humans. Yet then I began to wonder what elves looked like in the eyes of dwarves: the animosity between their races was no secret.
I frowned a tad, but kept my voice light. "Hmm, if anyone else had told me that I would consider it a compliment, yet coming from a dwarf maybe I should be offended?"
He laughed at that but did not respond.
"At any rate," I continued, "I'm not sure what would give any of you that impression; I look nothing at all like an elf."
"Well you're a lot slimmer and taller than the dwarf maidens we're used to." Bofur said idly, trying to keep his pony from veering off the path. "You have a fair complexion and that long, light hair of yours. Plus it's not often you see a woman clad in men's clothing alone in the wild." He grinned up at me.
"It's not often you see a group of thirteen dwarves, a wizard and a hobbit travelling together in the wild either." I chided, grinning. "And these aren't man clothes," I added, self-consciously tugging at my jacket, "...it's women's travel garb." Truthfully it likely all was men's wear, chosen for its practicality, warmth and inconspicuousness.
"Sure lass, but I've seen women travel in dresses before." He said with a laugh.
"Well if you happen to have a spare gown packed with you, I will gladly oblige and put it on if you prefer." I retorted, causing Bofur to laugh melodiously once more.
"Is it true dwarf women have beards?" I enquired, hoping it wasn't too inappropriate of me to ask.
"Oh aye." Bofur conceded. "Some have beards larger than the mens'."
"How strange..." I said, wonderingly. "I just couldn't imagine it. I've never seen a dwarf woman before."
"How can you be so sure?" Bofur retorted, tapping his finger to his nose and looking inquisitively up at me from below the brow of his hat.
"From a distance, they're oft mistaken as men themselves."
I made a noise of interest but then had to stifle an unexpected yawn.
"Oh am I borin' you that bad?" Bofur asked with teasing affront.
I shook my head with a grin. "No, no," I assured lightly. "I just haven't slept well lately, especially last night... you know, one of your group snores so loudly I almost felt the ground shaking."
Bofur snorted a laugh. "Ah, you can likely peg the blame on Bombur. If it keeps you up tonight just tell me and I'll give him a slight kick for yah."
We continued talking for a while, then he lit his pipe and we rode in comfortable silence for a while more. I felt energized, almost foolishly giddy after such light conversation and amiable company, and even struggled to stifle an impish grin as I rode. It was always refreshing to speak to someone who wasn't wildly intoxicated. If it weren't for the monthly market trips I had sometimes been assigned, I would have had very few normal encounters with normal folk over the past couple years.
I tried to caution myself to be careful, to not give out my trust too willingly or too fast. I did not know what these dwarves were capable of. Yet even despite my years of dealing with the scum of society, I never lost sight of the fact that there were still good men in the world. My father was a good man, and these dwarves, well they seemed like good men too.
The next few days slipped by without incidence and the start of June was heralded with fair weather. The pace of the dwarven company was unhurried, and upon finding an ideal camping location, some of the group members argued to stay longer than one night in order to relax a while, let the ponies out to pasture, and, it would seem, mostly to socialize. There was a cheerful atmosphere of reunion among them, yet upon asking I learnt that they had been travelling together a whole month before I had even joined them. Yet every evening they shared stories and reminisced, and I was under the impression that many had not seen each other for a long while before this journey. Oftentimes I would sit next to the hobbit, who also seemed to be an outsider looking in. He informed me that he had joined the group a month previous as well, but did not know any dwarves at all before that. Bilbo was pleasant enough, but I found he was poor at elaborating and seemed to get flustered easily, so I often kept my conversations with him rather brief.
I kept waiting for the time when I would be asked to leave, or even worse, when I would wake one morning to find the dwarves had packed up and moved on without me. I rationalized that such an unceremonious parting would prove rather awkward, however, as they seemed to be travelling the same general direction I needed to go, and at such a slow pace even I would simply pass them again. So I kept mostly to myself, trying to be of use where I could, refusing all but the smallest portions offered to me at dinner and watching my own supplies diminish as I picked at them during the rest of the day, for while I welcomed the opportunity to recover physically, it did little to lessen the anxiety I felt facing the reality that what food I had would not last me much longer.
Fortune smiled upon me one evening, however, when I wandered into a glade looking for firewood. As I stooped down to grab a dried branch, my eye landed on something else on the ground.
I picked it up and smiled as I looked around to find myself surrounded by mushrooms, a large, tasty variety that I was very familiar with. The inn had often substituted mushrooms in place of meat for its stews, it was cheaper, and so I was quite knowledgeable at identifying fungi. For a moment I debated running back and informing the others of my discovery so that they might come gather some as well, but my excitement got the better of me and I somewhat selfishly wished to parade into camp bearing unexpected food as I had done with the fish when I first met them.
I quickly removed my coat and laid it out to collect the mushrooms on; being careful not to bruise them. With little effort I had amassed a small pile, and then began to search the surrounding area for more while quietly humming an old tavern tune to myself.
When I heard the branch snap nearby I turned with a smile, expecting one of the dwarves to be approaching. Yet no one was within sight and I realized that the shadows were growing thick as dusk had set in. Hopefully, with a little help, we could collect the rest and be back to camp before darkness fully enveloped the forest.
"I'm over here." I announced loudly in case they didn't see me - and, if the noise was from an animal, to hopefully just scare it away.
"I'm coming." Someone responded. I peered towards where the voice came from, but was having trouble remembering who it belonged to. Still I could not see anyone, so I took a few steps forward, placing the last few mushrooms I had picked down onto my coat with the others. I surveyed my work then saw my meagre pile of firewood that lay forgotten next to my harvest. I suddenly started to worry that my travelling companions would be cross with me for not delivering the much needed fuel as I usually did after dinner.
I had no time to fret over it though, as I suddenly heard the footsteps rush up behind me. A rough hand clamped over my mouth before I could cry out, and I was pulled back and held tight against someone as two other figures soon quietly emerged and approached us. Their height instantly gave them away as men - men I did not recognize.
I struggled against my captor, trying to elbow him while attempting to yell out.
"Keep 'er quiet." The nearest one said, rushing up and drawing a blade. He set it alongside my neck, forcing me to still my movements. "Better." he cooed with a smile as I stared up at him with loathing. I was used to rough treatment by men of this sort, but this was different. I knew what was going to happen to me, and I knew what happened to the girls that made it difficult. I would lose either way, and they knew it.
"Last thing we need is a gang of dwarves showin' up to ruin our fun." the man added, then sneered as his free hand reached up to loosen the tie on the front of my chemise. He had thick stubble and dirty teeth. His short, ill-cut hair was blonde, like my own, yet it was darkened and lank with sweat and dirt, and fell over his forehead to somewhat obscure his eyes. He was scrawny, and looked in need of sleep and a good meal. His comrade, however, was larger, as was the one behind me. I could feel his fat gut against my back, and the arm he had about my waist was thick and unyielding. All three were unkept and greasy. I could smell the odour of the unwashed clothing on the one I was pressed against, the stench of stale ale on the breath of the one with the dagger to my throat. He pulled open the front of my shirt and ran a finger down my cleavage. I breathed hard through my nose and tried to remain still, despite the revulsion I felt. After a moment he paused.
"Listen here, if you cooperate, perhaps we'll feel... merciful... let you live, you see?" he said musingly, taking his knife from my neck but holding it up in emphasis. "We've orders to do what we like, whatever we like, so long as we kill you in the end. Mayhaps it don't have to be like that, eh?"
With sudden comprehension I knew that these men were sent by the Innkeeper, the man I thought I had finally escaped.
My assassin must have seen the acknowledgement in my eyes as he nodded enthusiastically and began to pace. "Yes. You did our master a great disservice, humiliatin' him an' all. He's a proud man, well, you know. He would rather 'ave you rottin' alongside the road than risk his good name bein' slandered by yourself."
He stopped and stepped up close to me once more. "So 'ave we got an understandin' then?"
I looked him square in the eyes, then dropped my own in acquiescence.
He clucked his tongue happily, tucking his knife back through his belt. "He did say you was a meek thing, even for a liar, and a thief... Give 'er here then, I'm first." He grabbed hold of my arm and I was relieved to feel the other man release his hold on me, I took a breath when his hand slid from my mouth but remained quiet as I knew they were watching me carefully.
"Right then. You behave, we behave." The scrawny one commented as I allowed him to lead me a few paces from the others, further into the tree grove. I knew I had the smallest opportunity, and was waiting for the exact right moment. It was when I felt him slightly stumble that I forced my elbow back as hard as I could into his stomach. As predicted his grip lessened so I wrenched free and lurched myself forward into a run. Yet I had underestimated him.
I cried out when I felt one of his hands grasp at my arm. I pulled away once more, and his nails raked violently across my skin. My flight was short lived, though, as his other hand caught the back of my shirt and I was thrown off balance. He followed me down, pinning me to the ground as he landed on top of me. He cursed as I thrashed and screamed before he could adjust his grip on me. He then forced me to turn and look up at him so he could properly cover my mouth once more. He was stronger than he looked and I began to panic as, despite my best efforts, I could not push him off me. My panic became stronger still when I became aware that he was attempting to undo the laces on my pants. I noticed out of the corner of my eye that the two other men had found us.
"You almost let her escape." One of them pointed out gruffly. "Let me have a go. You can barely handle her."
"Oh, just wait yer turn." My assailant replied, ramming his knee down into my thigh to try and still my movement. "Now, we had a deal, but you broke it." he said acidly. "We won't be playin' nice then either."
The sound of someone pointedly clearing his throat - loudly and clearly enough that it seemed obvious his previous attempts had gone unnoticed with all the commotion - caused all four of us to look towards that someone in particular, and while my mind hoped for the largest and fiercest of the dwarves, new panic set in when I saw only a cloaked figure leaning on his walking stick.
Gandalf.
"What are you doing here old man?" One of the unoccupied, larger brutes demanded, turning and taking an imposing step in the wizard's direction. My current attacker hauled me back up to my feet, quickly fumbling to return the knife to my throat as he held me in front of him, his filthy hand reaching around to cover my mouth once more. My eyes widened and I let out a muffled cry as I tried to will Gandalf to leave me. What good could he do against three armed men? Maybe if he fled now he could get help, or at least survive the encounter. He looked up at me from under his bushy brows, his eyes meeting mine with a level of reassuring calm that stilled my racing heart.
I stopped struggling.
"Where else should I be?" He demanded while rising up from his stooped posture, which caused the thug confronting him to gawp. The slender man that held me took the bait, though.
"Anywhere but here!" He snapped.
"I'll be taking the girl." Gandalf stated matter of factly, which caused my assailant to roll his eyes and sigh in exasperation, then nod to the fat man to take hold of me once more. After I was passed off, he stepped forward and pointed his knife in Gandalf's direction.
"Just who do you think you are?" He demanded.
"I am Gandalf. Gandalf the Grey." The wizard stated, and began steadily advancing on us, and as he did the shadows grew dark as moonless night and rose up all around us, and his voice boomed ever louder "Mithrandir to the high elves. The Grey Pilgrim in the white tower of Minas Tirith. Gandalf Greyhame to the riders of Rohan. The White Rider. I am Láthspell. I am Stormcrow. Perhaps you have heard of me. Perhaps you know that I do not suffer fools gladly. Leave now and let the girl go free." He stated, stopping just short of the first man with his staff brandished.
At that, the men seemed utterly speechless, their eyes darting from the wizard to the encroaching darkness around them. The fat man now holding me, however, decided to speak up - perhaps too stupid to be intimidated.
"You gonna make us, ol' git?"
The scrawny one whirled around and glared at his companion, but it was too late. Gandalf had given them their chance. He sighed, lowered his staff and rested his frame back down upon it. "Me?" He asked, his voice calm and quiet. "No. Not me."
He then looked me in the eyes once more, his glance somewhat apologetic, as if to say 'I tried,' before he tapped his staff on the ground, and from its top a gentle white light pushed back the shadows to beyond our prior line of sight.
We were surrounded by dwarves.
I never did find out what happened to the three men.
I was led away from the scene with Bilbo, Bofur and Ori, while the rest were still debating what to do with my attackers once they were in captivity. Thorin had been tromping up and down the line of men, who had been forced to their knees, bound and gagged almost at once to quiet their pleas. Not that their begging was helping their case, in fact it was only seeming to aggravate the dwarves further.
(Gandalf later assured me that the men were let off after a good scare and with a very stern warning, yet no one made mention of the fact that Dwalin and Nori did not return to the group until much later that night).
Upon re-entering camp, I noticed a fire had been made and was still alight. Someone else had apparently taken it upon themselves to gather extra wood when I didn't return in a timely fashion with my pile. I carefully sat down on a log that had been rolled up and noticed that the two dwarves and hobbit seemed rather at a loss of how to interact with me now.
"I'm fine, really." I repeated gently, urging them to sit down.
"Are you sure, lass?" Bofur asked, lowering himself onto the adjacent seat and looking at me carefully.
I nodded, and averted my gaze, feeling somewhat ashamed that I was unable to protect myself.
"Her arm." Bilbo suddenly stated. I looked down and saw my white sleeve had a few small dark blotches on it and was sticking to the scratches I had acquired trying to escape.
I shook my head in assurance. "Nothing serious, they aren't deep."
"Aye, but they should still be cleaned. Might I see?" Bofur asked somewhat uncertainly.
I hesitated a moment but then held out my arm. He pulled up my sleeve to reveal the shallow lacerations that marked my forearm. Bofur turned and addressed the younger dwarf that was with us.
"Ori, go back and fetch Óin." Bofur asked. "He has some knowledge of healing." he added to me as Ori left our line of sight.
Some of the others returned with Óin as well. Thankfully someone had grabbed my jacket, mushrooms and all, so I felt some consolation that at least my ordeal wasn't for nothing. Soon after having my arm cleaned and wrapped, Thorin arrived.
"Was there really no sight, no sound of them trailing us?" He demanded, pacing around the fire. "These were not trained men. They were no more than pathetic ruffians driven by some coin and the chance of a quick rut."
The dark hid the red shame I felt rising in my cheeks, but Thorin paid me no heed.
"This is no holiday! We must be more vigilant. There will undoubtedly be more dangers ahead, and not all will be so easily dealt with. I want to implement a nightly watch, starting now. No excuses."
The dwarves nodded and mumbled their agreement. Thorin then approached me.
"Did those men speak to you at all?" he asked, keeping his voice low so that only I, and maybe those sitting right nearby, could hear.
"A little." I replied honestly.
"Did they know you were travelling with us? Did they know who we were?" He stared down his nose at me, though I could feel some sense of urgency with his questioning.
"They knew I might be accompanied by dwarves. I think that was the extent of it... they had no business with you." I explained, wondering if I was finally going to be left behind as I was becoming more of a liability than anything.
Thorin stared at me a moment. "Why were they after you?" he asked.
I tried to choose my words carefully, especially because I felt both Bofur and Bilbo peering at me from the next log, awaiting my answer.
"Because something was stolen from me... so I stole it back." I admitted, referring to not only the gold I had saved and lost, but also my life as a whole. I met Thorin's steely gaze with a defiant look of my own, waiting for him to cast me aside for being too much trouble, waiting to find out if I would once again be on my own, but instead he simply nodded and left me to my tumultuous thoughts.
The next day we did not stop until we had found a location that provided a better vantage of the land. I stuck close to the campsite that evening, helping to prepare the fire and clear the ground for more comfortable sleeping. While I was sweeping stones and pebbles from my own spot with a pine branch, I noticed Bombur on the edge of the cliff we had camped up against, tossing something off into the abyss. Upon closer inspection, to my dismay, I noticed they were the mushrooms I had picked.
"Bofur, were some of the mushrooms I picked not ready?" I asked, feeling a little irritated after the ordeal I had gone through to get them, but wishing to at least learn from my mistake if they were out of season.
"Oh, nah." Bofur replied from nearby, cheerful as ever. "Those are just the poisonous ones."
"Poisonous?" I repeated, somewhat dumbstruck. I had been so certain I recognized them, in fact I had debated eating a few raw while collecting, but had decided to save them all for grilling over the fire.
"Oh aye." He nodded, stopping what he was doing to watch as one after another the fruits of my labour were pitched over the side. "That one there would have caused temporary blindness, profuse sweating and vomiting. There's one that can cause brain damage - you'll end up worse than Bifur, if the fever doesn't kill you first. Hey Bombur! Save that next one for later!" He suggested, but a bit too late as a Bombur had already let it fall from his hand before looking back apologetically.
"Pity." Bofur added with a shrug. "That one would have been good for a bit of fun - not so good for everyday eating though." He winked and flashed a grin at me.
"Are there any there that are edible?" I bemoaned.
"Don't fret, Bombur's already sorted out most of the good ones." He assured me. "Hang on - look at that! That one is so deadly, I daresay one bite would be enough to kill us all. I should go fetch that for Nori…" with that he padded off, leaving me very much in doubt over my supposed mushroom foraging abilities.
After dinner, which they shared with me once more despite my protests (I decided to not eat any of the mushrooms, just in case), some fell asleep almost immediately, but I decided to stay up for a while and so settled with my back against the rock face to watch the fire. Kili and his brother Fili came and sat near me, where they chatted quietly with each other. Some minutes later, an odd sound rent the air, sending Bilbo, who had previously wandered off towards the ponies, rushing back into the ring of firelight.
"What was that?" he asked anxiously, pointing back over his shoulder.
"Orcs." Kili said sternly. I jerked forward, looking at him in alarm.
"Orcs?" Bilbo repeated, his voice raising a few octaves.
"Throat-cutters." Fili explained. "There'll be dozens of them out there." Kili then turned to me and winked, and I realized they were just trying to get a rise out of the hobbit; I smiled and relaxed once more.
Thorin however, soon got up and did not find the joke funny.
"We didn't mean anything by it." Kili said apologetically.
Thorin reprimanded him then walked over to the cliff's edge, looking out over the valley.
Balin then approached, telling the lads not to worry and explaining Thorin's hatred for orcs. He told a story of battle and loss. How Thorin arose in the despair and defeated the pale orc, Azog, rallying the dwarves to success. He earned his leadership that day, and Balin's unwavering loyalty. I listened attentively, looking at Thorin with greater appreciation.
I wondered more about his past, and the history of the others, as I tried to fall asleep that night. I was beginning to understand that I might be amongst more than just a random company of humble dwarves. There was a story here, and I was determined to find out what it was.
The next morning we were all abruptly awoken earlier than usual as Thorin stormed around camp giving his comrades a rough jostle or swift kick despite their groans and mumbles of protest. Thankfully, by the time the brooding dwarf reached the hobbit and I, we were long since awoken by the raucous.
"I'm up, I'm up!" Bilbo stressed in alarm, raising his hands up defensively as Thorin passed us by and closed in on the last few sleeping forms.
Kili cursed particularly loudly after such uncouth treatment, shooting a scathing glare up at the older dwarf as he sat straight upright, nursing the spot where Thorin's boot had made contact.
"If you suspect we might be tailed by orc parties in the night, nephew, then I trust you will not object to a faster pace." Thorin remarked with a slight sneer as the young dwarf glared at him.
I was beginning to clue in that there might be more to these dwarves than met the eye, and I was becoming increasingly curious. The next few days, however, weren't very conductive for conversation as a storm front moved in and once it started pouring rain, it rarely seemed to stop. As we travelled, we stayed single file as the road turned into mud, all of us scowling to ourselves as our layers of clothing progressively soaked through.
After my rough encounter with the men, I felt slightly more cautious and less keen to bring up the rear, so instead I opted to ride more in the middle of the group. I felt rather tall on my horse, even though Gandalf was often only a few dwarves ahead.
At one point I turned in my saddle to see a rather despondent looking Bofur, rain dripping from his floppy hat, absentmindedly check his now very unlit pipe, and then proceed to stick it back in his mouth. I couldn't help but laugh out loud at the image. He looked up at me startled, then smiled with the pipe still in his mouth and touched his hat to me. Unbidden, I found myself looking at him more closely then, and for some strange reason I began to wonder as to what he might smell like. My mind, still mulling over our meager breakfast and our current state, could only rationally suspect he must smell like pancakes and storms of all things.
I shook my head of such nonsense, deciding I was in desperate need it a good night's sleep as my mind was becoming somewhat addled. As I returned forward in my seat, I heard Dori (or Ori, maybe Nori?... I couldn't remember) ahead of me asking if Gandalf could do anything to stop the deluge. I urged my horse forward a bit to try and catch his answer.
"It is raining, Master Dwarf." Gandalf called back grumpily. "And it will continue to rain until the rain is done. If you wish to change the weather of the world, you should find yourself another wizard."
Bilbo then spoke, but I couldn't quite make out what he asked.
"There are five of us." I heard Gandalf respond. "The greatest of our order is Saruman, the White. Then there are the two Blue Wizards; you know, I've quite forgotten their names."
"And who is the fifth?" Bilbo enquired.
"Well, that would be Radagast, the Brown." Gandalf explained, turning his head to speak so the hobbit could hear him better.
"Is he a great Wizard, or is he more like you?" Bilbo asked innocently, almost causing me to snort.
"I think he's a very great wizard, in his own way." Gandalf said crossly.
The rest of their words were lost to me by a strong wind which caused the trees to drop even more water on us. I shivered, pulling my coat closer. Finally, by late afternoon, the rain had ceased and we were able to partially dry off before coming to a stop at a ruined and deserted farmhouse.
Thorin began assigning duties, charging Kili and Fili to look after the ponies and telling Óin and Gloin to start a fire. I dismounted, but tied my horse where I could see him. I was somewhat protective of the beast since he was basically nearly the sum of my life's worth and I hoped I would be able to sell him near the end of my journey so I would not be returning home with an empty purse.
Gandalf and Thorin walked off towards the ruined frame of the house, deep in discussion. I looked about, wondering if I could be useful nearby. While staying within sight of the others, I picked up a few dry branches and dumped them by the dwarves making the firepit. It was then saw Gandalf stomp past us all, seemingly in a rush. I heard him snap that he'd had enough of dwarves for one day, and as I watched him go I wondered when he would return - hoping that he would at all. He had invited me to join them despite Thorin's wishes. If he abandoned us now, I might find myself abandoned as well.
"Come on Bombur, we're hungry." Thorin ordered gruffly.
I wandered over to where Bofur and Bombur were unpacking some cooking supplies and asked if they needed help. They looked at me confused for a moment, as if meal preparation was something that no one else had ever willingly volunteer for, but then Bofur handed me a few potatoes and a knife and asked if I could peel and cut them. When I was finished he said that there was nothing else that needed to be done for a time and went to sit down, beckoning me to join him. The sun had set so we remained close to the fire. I stretched out my legs towards the warmth; they were stiff from the day of cold riding and likely still somewhat bruised from my mistreatment.
"So, d'you remember all our names yet?" Bofur asked, his eyes dancing in the firelight.
"Oh, don't quiz me yet." I moaned in mock protest, but then I smiled. "It's not fair that I have to memorize fifteen new names when you all have to learn just one."
He shrugged exaggeratedly. "It's not as if we have very difficult names. Some of them have only three letters."
"That doesn't make it easier." I exclaimed before biting my inner cheek in thought, trying to recite them in my head before voicing them out loud. "I think I know them all, but get confused as to who is who. Do similarities always indicate kinship?" I asked.
Bofur nodded, reminding me that Kili and Fili were brothers for example. He then pointed to the others and I begrudgingly tried to list them off, only confusing Gloin and Óin and completely forgetting Balin. It was a definite improvement.
"What is it that you do?" I asked after a moment's pause. "Back home I mean... Where do you call home? Are you all from the same area? "
"That's a lot of questions for someone who's been avoiding them herself." he said, looking at me knowingly.
I faltered and shot him a rueful smile. "I'm sorry - you're right..."
He held up his hand, grinning as usual. "Tell you what; I'll make you a deal. You can ask me anything and I'll tell you the truth - if I can - but then you must repay in kind."
I thought about it for a moment, but my curiosity overrode my secrecy. "Alright, deal." I said, holding out my hand. He took it with a thoughtful expression, his large calloused fingers warming mine for a moment.
"You first then." he said as I pulled my hand from his.
"Where are you from?" I asked, starting simple.
"Far west of here in Ered Luin, the Blue Mountains." he replied easily. "I'll ask you the same."
"Well... I was in Bree for the past five years. But I was born and raised in Laketown."
He looked at me intently for a minute.
"What do -or what did you do before this?" I asked before he could comment.
"I was a miner, mainly, though most dwarves dabble, bit of construction, bit of blacksmithing, bit of carving..." he trailed off then looked back at me. "And what about yourself?"
I bit my lip, not wanting to label myself as a tavern wench, even though I had grown rather accustomed to people calling me that while at work. Instead I tried to choose more tactful descriptors. "I was a... server and cleaner at an inn, though I wouldn't want to do that line of work again if I can help it."
He nodded slowly but didn't press for more details. "Did you want to ask anything else of me tonight?" he asked. I thought for a moment, unsure if I wished to continue.
"Why are you travelling with this company?" I questioned finally, wondering if it was too secretive or personal of a topic, but he smiled at me, his eyes twinkling and gave me the answer I least expected.
"I was told the beer was free."
He then abruptly got up to help hand out the stew, and I was left watching him go with a confused smile on my lips.
I took a bowl without arguing this evening, vowing to myself that I would pay them back when I could. When I was done, however, Bofur took my bowl but brought it back to me full once more.
"No." I said this time, trying to stop him from pushing it into my hands. "I'm very grateful you'd allow me anything at all. I don't need more; I'm already so much in your company's debt."
"Don't worry, Bombur offered up his seconds! Besides, you look half-starved." he set the bowl down on my lap, forcing me to grab it to prevent hot stew from spilling over onto my legs. Truth was I needed it, my personal stores were running very low and I knew I had dropped some weight from lack of sufficient meals the past two weeks. My body was craving the nourishment.
I had just finished when there was a commotion. Kili and Fili ran into the middle of camp, frantically yelling something about 'three trolls eating the ponies' and 'Bilbo needing to be saved' and then they shouted without further explanation that 'everybody needed to go help right now!'
Bofur sprang to his feet, grabbing his mattock. He stopped mid-stride then looked back at me. "Stay here lass. We'll be back in a jiffy." Then he ran off with the others into the forest. I sat there nonplussed for a few minutes, gazing around the empty camp. Then I began to hear shouting and deep roaring, and the sound of battle. I stood up and anxiously walked about, restocking the fire, tending to the dishes, wishing I was more than an unarmed ex-tavern girl so that I might be of more help.
After a while the commotion silenced. I perked up, expecting to see the dwarves coming back victorious. But they didn't come. I waited. And waited. Then I finally made up my mind and ran to my horse, managing to scramble on without a saddle and urging him to a gallop in the direction Gandalf had taken off in. I struggled to stay properly seated, gripping his mane for dear life and staying low to his neck as he ran. I eventually had to slow him down, and then only pushed him to run after a span at an easier pace. I couldn't afford to lame him. I rode for what felt like ages without seeing anyone and I knew I had made the wrong decision in leaving. I should have just gone after them myself, I owed them, and maybe I could have done something. It was likely too late now.
Just as I was about to turn around, I finally found the wizard. He had been sitting atop a rock, blowing smoke rings into the night when he heard me approach. I didn't notice him in the shadows but he called to me as I passed.
"What on earth is the matter, dear girl?" he asked as I swung down and handed him the reins in a panic.
"You need to go help them!" I explained breathlessly. "There are trolls. Take my horse. Go now!"
He didn't question me further, but jumped on much more gracefully than I had done, then without warning he grabbed my arm and pulled me up behind him. My horse seemed to find new energy as the wizard whispered to it and we raced back to the camp. As soon as we arrived Gandalf told me to wait, then he stole off into the darkness as I tended our tired mount. When he didn't come back in any decent amount of time I felt that at least there still may be some hope. I reasoned he would have returned sooner if they had simply all been eaten...
I fretted about some more, hardly able to sit, until I could see the horizon start to glow. It was almost sun-up. When the first rays lit the sky I heard an ear-splitting crack. Unable to wait any longer I picked my way through the trees, following a path of destruction, and found the dwarves in various stages of disarray under three large stone trolls. I stared at them in wonder as I approached Gandalf and Thorin.
"Nasty business." Gandalf was saying. "Still, they are all in one piece."
"No thanks to your burglar." Thorin replied, looking sour.
"He had the nerves to play for time. None of the rest of you thought of that." Gandalf countered.
At that point Thorin noticed me hesitantly standing nearby. "And where were you this whole time? Sleeping I suppose?"
I opened my mouth to respond but Gandalf beat me to it. "You underestimate your companions, Thorin. She rode through the night to bring me back."
Thorin didn't respond but appeared somewhat repentant. He turned to examine the troll statues. "They must have come down from the Ettenmoors..."
Bofur was nearby so I sidled over to him.
"You're all unharmed?" I asked worriedly. They all appeared to have a few new scrapes but no one seemed to be tending a serious injury.
"I think our pride might have taken the biggest hit." he answered cheekily. "Probably best you weren't around to see it."
I furrowed my brow in confusion but he didn't elaborate.
"You fetched Gandalf for us I heard. That should earn you seconds at meals for about a month." he joked.
Before I could retort, Thorin shouted for everyone to scout the area for a cave. It didn't take long to find, but the odour wafting out of it was so offensive it made my eyes water. Gandalf warned those entering to take heed of what they touched.
"Do you want to go in?" Bofur asked, touching my elbow. I nodded, curious to explore it despite its awful stench. After all, it was a far cry less repulsive than some of the men of Bree.
We made our way into the dim cave. I heard some of the dwarves coughing and retching, and I tried not to breathe too deeply. Once my eyes adjusted to the low light, it became clear that the cave held both treasure and decay. Riches hidden amongst the blight of troll scum.
Bofur ran his boot through a litter of gold coins. "Seems a shame just to leave it lyin' around. Anyone could take it." he mused.
"Agreed." Gloin said from nearby. "Nori, get a shovel."
I eyed the gold and roamed a bit further in, ogling piles of treasure and old jewellery that had been strewn about so negligently. I carefully picked up a few coins, dusting them off and eagerly storing them in my coat pocket, then scavenged a dirty but delicate looking necklace that I stashed away as well. I looked around; feeling almost guilty, but the others weren't paying attention to me, and so I continued to hunt for more gold. Gloin, Nori and Bofur were busy burying a chest.
"We're makin' a long term deposit." I heard Gloin explain to Dwalin, who looked right unimpressed.
Thorin then shouldered past me. "Let's get out of this foul place," he said, making his way back towards the entrance.
I picked my way a bit further towards the back of the cave first, where Gandalf beckoned me over.
"There are good weapons to be found here." he said, indicating towards a few swords sticking up out of the rubble. "I would encourage you to arm yourself."
I eyed him for a moment as he turned to leave; I had never so much as held a sword before. Tentatively I grabbed a few out. One was much too heavy but the other two were perhaps not as bad.
"Come on, let's go!" Thorin repeated, his tone indicating that he had run out of patience for us stragglers. "Bofur! Gloin! Nori!"
I tossed the swords back down, turning to leave, but then hesitated, thinking of the men who had accosted me in the forest and how defenceless I had been to stop them.
After a moment I followed the remaining dwarves out of the troll cave, my pockets feeling a little heavier and a scabbard in hand.