"That she should come with us?" Thorin grumbled. "Who do you think we are, wizard—some chaperones?"
"We're in a hurry, no time to escort ladies," Dwalin added.
Gandalf, so far unsuccessfully, had been trying to persuade the dwarves to accept Elrond's generous offer. He was asking them to allow Lady Talessa and her entourage to join them while crossing the Misty Mountains, ensuring the ladies' protection on the harsh pass in exchange for new ponies to replace the ones they had lost along the way.
"It's not about escorting," Gandalf sighed, exasperated. "It's just a short stretch of the journey. Would you rather they ventured into the Misty Mountains alone? Would you be so heartless, Thorin Oakenshield? Besides, without mounts, the crossing will take twice as long."
The dwarf grunted angrily, but he knew Gandalf had a point. His honor would not allow him to abandon defenseless maidens, and they couldn't afford to set off without horses. Still, it was infuriating.
"I didn't think we'd have to part ways so soon," complained Nídhiel, standing beside Talessa's pony. The pale mare seemed to sense her sadness, gently nudging her with its nose. The elf absentmindedly scratched the animal's mane before turning back to her friend.
They were making the final preparations for their journey, and it was only a matter of minutes before Gandalf and Thorin Oakenshield would announce their departure. She could see Thorin shooting angry glances in their direction, and she knew this arrangement was certainly not his idea. But they had accepted Elrond's offer, and Talessa was very grateful to her cousin for arranging this opportunity, even though she would have preferred to stay a little longer.
Bertra stood next to Eline, squeezing her hand with concern.
"My girls, I wish I could go with you! It makes me nervous to think you'll be out there all alone, surrounded by all those brute menfolk."
"There's nothing to worry about, Bert," Eline assured her, glancing toward the group. Her eyes met Fíli's briefly, and she quickly looked away. "The dwarves aren't as bad as you think, and we also have an elven guard. Before you know it, we'll be home again."
Bertra would leave for home tomorrow, and the plan was for Talessa and Eline to spend a month in Lothlórien before heading to the Quinmaer estate by a longer route, avoiding the Misty Mountains. Lord Elrond had assigned one of his most trusted guards, Ýrdor, to escort them all the way back home—another generous favor from the elven lord.
"Just remember to stay watchful and take care of your mistress," Bertra said, trying to stifle a tear.
"Oh, Berta, stop worrying about us," Talessa chimed in, smiling warmly at her old maid. "Everything will be fine."
They were already mounted and had said goodbye to almost everyone when Elladan and Elrohir rode into the courtyard. Elrohir nodded politely to the dwarves as they passed, while his brother refused to acknowledge them. He went straight to Talessa, dismounted from his large stallion, and bowed before taking her hand.
"It saddens me that we didn't have more time together, my lady," he said somberly. "I want you to know I volunteered to escort you, but my father had other duties for me."
"You are very kind," replied Talessa, flustered by his sudden display of emotion. "I understand you have more important matters than to escort a group of travelers. I'm sure Ýrdor will take good care of us."
"He is one of our father's most trusted guards," said Elrohir from a few step behind, waving as he rode off. "Safe journey, cousin!"
At that moment, Thorin Oakenshield gave the signal, and the company set off.
Talessa and Eline rode side by side near the front of the group, with Ýrdor and Ranold, one of the coachmen from Rohan, following a few steps behind. The other coachman would be taking Bertra home, escorted by her hired guards. Both Ýrdor and Ranold were serious, duty-bound men, speaking little as they focused on their tasks, guiding their tall, stocky mounts.
Talessa rode a skittish grey mare—short, elegant, and barely taller than the dwarves' ponies. Accustomed to riding, she didn't mind the mare's restlessness and admired its shiny coat and energetic gait.
The dwarves, true to their nature, began talking and singing as soon as they left the valley. Talessa wasn't sure how to feel about the noise, but she couldn't say it bothered her. In fact, their merriment started to ease some of her worries about the crossing. The cheerful conversation gave her a sense of security—something to focus on.
After a few minutes, a fair-haired dwarf—Fíli, if she remembered correctly—caught up with them, greeting them cheerfully.
"How are you feeling today, Lady Eline?" he asked the woman on his left. To Talessa's surprise, the usually confident and self-assured Eline seemed flustered by his attention.
"It's just Eline," she replied with a shy smile, glancing at Talessa.
Talessa raised an eyebrow, though her friend couldn't see it. She urged her pony forward, deciding to give the two some privacy. Eline shot her a desperate look, but Talessa ignored it. Her mischievous side was curious to see where this was going— and she wanted her friend to enjoy herself a little.
She joined Gandalf at the front of the line, who seemed happy to have some company. He began telling her stories of their journey to Rivendell.
"And then, Bilbo—our clever Bilbo!" Gandalf laughed heartily. "He started explaining dwarf recipes to the three trolls! You should have seen how angry his companions were. But all he was doing was stalling for time, which, I must say, was very wise of him."
"And then?" asked Talessa, intrigued.
"And then... well, I came along," Gandalf winked.
"'May the dawn take you!'" Kíli chimed in, imitating Gandalf's voice as he caught up beside them. "That's what he shouted, then he struck the rock so hard it split in two. Very heroic, if you ask me."
"And the trolls turned to stone?" Talessa asked. She had always thought the stories of stone-trolls were just legends, and having never seen a troll herself, she doubted their existence. But apparently, it was true.
"To stone—like some horrid, ugly statues," the dwarf confirmed.
Gandalf then told her the tale of Erebor and how the dragon Smaug had stolen it. It was a story Talessa had heard before, either in books or from one of her tutors, but Gandalf's version was far more detailed and captivating. He also recounted the Battle of Moria, how Thorin's grandfather was killed by an orc named Azog, and how Thorin had defeated the orc and earned the name "Oakenshield."
Talessa listened to Gandalf's tales with an easy smile, laughing when Kíli interrupted with jokes and his own versions of events. A few other dwarves joined them for a chat, and Talessa found herself beginning to enjoy their company.
The landscape was changing rapidly. After a few hours of travel, the gentle green hills grew steeper, and the vegetation thinned. Grass gave way to moss, which soon turned into barren rock. A few trees and clumps of weeds clung to the earth with stubborn roots, but in the distance, only snowy mountaintops were visible.
One moment, the company was riding along leisurely, and the next, a screeching crow flew up from behind a rock by the path, startling the horses. Ranold's mount jumped sideways, then reared in panic, its hind legs slipping off the path. In a matter of seconds, the servant and horse tumbled down the steep slope. For a moment, everything went silent. Talessa instinctively urged her horse closer to the ledge, but Eline grabbed her arm, stopping her.
"Are you alive, man?" one of the dwarves shouted, peering down. To everyone's relief, there was an answer. But when some of the dwarves climbed down to help Ranold, their relief was short-lived. The man had survived, but the horse had not, and Ranold's arm was twisted at an unnatural angle, clearly broken in at least two places.
"Can you heal him?" Thorin asked Gandalf.
"Healing is not my specialty," Gandalf admitted somberly. "He'll need to be taken back to Rivendell."
"We don't have time for that!" Thorin grumbled, glaring at the injured man as though this was all his fault.
The wizard sighed. "I will take him back and join you after. You should wait for me at the nearest safe place."
Thorin looked like he was about to argue but eventually nodded, settling the matter.
Gandalf and Ranold set off back to the Hidden Valley, while the rest of the company continued their journey, searching for a safe overlook or cave to rest for the afternoon.
Talessa knew trouble was coming the moment she overheard Thorin's conversation with Balin. The old dwarf had suggested the third potential resting spot they passed, insisting it was the perfect place to wait for Gandalf. Thorin, however, was determined to press on, even though Balin cautioned him that sunset was near.
A sense of dread began to creep over Talessa. This wasn't what they had agreed with Gandalf. They were supposed to wait for him, and she knew the wizard's power—however old and fragile he might appear—could protect them from whatever dangers lay ahead on this ominous path.
She shared her concerns with Eline, who then went to speak with Fíli.
"I'm sorry," Fíli said, shaking his head. "If Thorin didn't listen to Balin, he certainly won't listen to me."
Eline's mouth twisted into a pout, and the dwarf quickly added, "But I wouldn't worry. My uncle is wise. I'm sure he knows what he's doing."
When Eline returned to share Fíli's response, Talessa's sense of dread deepened. Thorin might be wise, but his stubbornness and overconfidence could lead them into disaster. She feared he might be leading them to their doom.