The Last of the Guardians Part 2 - A Hobbit Fan Fiction

Chapter 5 - The Traitor Among Us

***Hey, I am SO sorry I didn't get this out by Tuesday! To make up for it (hopefully) I've made this chapter a little longer (probably by about three words). It took me so long to write because I knew what I wanted to say, but not how to say it. It gets confusing towards the end, so if you can't make any sense of it please message me and I'll try and see if I can rewrite it or something. Urgh, I know. But thanks for all the votes and comments so far, and above all, thank you for reading it! Weekly updates will now come on Fridays :)***

As they approached Mirkwood the next day, Gandalf fell into a brooding silence. He had not spoken for so long that Bilbo began to feel uncomfortable, and felt he should so something about it. He drew his pony up beside Gandalf's and tried to meet his eyes, but the wizard was focused on the nearing forest.

"Gandalf?" asked the hobbit. "Gandalf, is there something amiss?"

The wizard did not respond, but rubbed his jaw thoughtfully for a moment and muttered something incoherent under his breath. Bilbo coughed loudly, trying to get Gandalf's attention. The old man jumped in his saddle at the sudden, course sound, as though he had not noticed Bilbo beside him. "I beg your pardon, Master Hobbit," he said slowly. "My mind was...on other things." He had not taken his eyes off the forest of Mirkwood.

"No, no - that's quite all right," Bilbo assured him. "I only wondered if you were well. Did you want to stop and rest a while?"

A twinkle appeared in Gandalf's eyes. "That will not be necessary - I may look wizened but my strength has not taken leave of me just yet. No, I think it best if we reach Mirkwood before dark. We don't want to spend another night out here."

The sun was beginning to fall behind the now distant mountains by the time they reached the forest's edge, so Thorin called out that they would rest just within the treeline rather than try and find their way through Mirkwood straight away. Bilbo could not help but agree. He did not fancy getting lost in the dark in that forest. 

Tonight, their Guardians refrained from leaving the company to spar, preferring to train nearer to them lest any danger lurking between the trees creep too close. Fili watched the pair training beyond the treeline. Sîor moved with the grace of an elf, his body flowing as one and his blade fused to his arm as though it were part of him. He was quick, but Fili noticed that Sîor was perhaps an impatient swordsman, wanting to attack and therefore giving less thought for defence. Nema was good with a sword, but she had yet to grow accustomed to the feel of her new weapon. 

Sîor tested Nema in every way he could; first driving forward like a bull, sword in front, then ducking and swinging at her legs. Nema did her best to block Sîor's blade and the weapon barely ever met its mark, but Fili knew she would still come away from the fight battered and bruised, and ready to collapse. Nema still had a lot to learn, but Fili felt oddly proud at how far she had come in such a short time. Sîor could no longer disarm her, not matter what he did, and the male Guardian always ended the bouts with his own fresh bruises.

The clanging of sword on sword seemed to agitate Bifur, who kept wringing his hands and rubbing his ears. He tried to distract himself from their fighting by chopping up a fallen branch and sitting down to carve a chunk of it, but his hands shook, and eventually he threw down the wood and his knife and began moaning quietly and incessantly.

"Hey, Bifur," said Bofur, concern thick in his voice, "what's the matter with you?" Bifur grunted several times, and waved his hands towards the Guardians. "Oh. It's alright, cousin," Bofur told him. "They are only training. They're not actually trying to hurt each other."

But Bifur would not be calmed down. He grunted again, and fixed Bofur with an intense look. The worry Bofur saw in his cousin's eyes made him frown, and he looked towards the Guardians. It took a few moments, but then it was as if scales had fallen from his eyes. Sîor was definitely not training. With every blow, Sîor's sword came closer and closer to seriously harming Nema. For the moment, she was holding him off fine, but Bofur saw her jaw was clenched tight, and sweat was glistening on her bare arms and her brow.