The Halls of Erebor

The Wilderness

The sun was just cresting the horizon when Frin opened her eyes. Her heavy eyelids stung against the chill of the morning air. When she saw her surroundings she let out a choked gasp. It all confirmed the horrors she had seen.

The claws moved through the familiar streets, pulling down the immaculate stone as they went. Dwarven bodies flew across the grand halls, discarded. The sight of her home being completely destroyed lingered, reduced to rubble. Then there was Dova. Her lifeless eyes gazed staring at her from under stone. Everything Frin had hoped to be a dream, a nightmare, was all real.

The steady sound of breathing which came from under her ear, pulled her mind away from her lingering terror. Turning her eyes towards the dwarf under her head, she recognized the familiar tunic and the steady hum of his breath. At her slight movement, his arm pulled her in tightly. Immediately she felt at ease.

Breathing deeply, she inhaled his musky scent, grateful for the moment of rest. His chest as her pillow was a source of warmth and security. She remembered him pulling her from the crumbling mountain. His bravery in leading his men against the beast. Yet, there was something in her mind that left her uneasy.

She recalled the look on his face when the elves turned away. The anger and hatred was easy to see yet something else lingered. Something she didn't recognize. Then, when she saw him across the fire, she thought she saw it again, that unknown emotion.

Glancing above her to his face, all she saw was Thorin. Her worry was getting the best of her. Her rest was over and another hellish day was beginning. Looking up at him, Frin decided to let him rest. Frin discreetly removed herself from his embrace, being sure not to wake him.

Around her, the crowd was spread over the open ground. There were so many, yet so little. Staring out, she began to wonder who made it out. Was it possible for her parents to escape? What about Balin?

Suddenly invigorated by a desperate hope, she began to move methodically through the crowd. It didn't take long to spot a familiar raven collared beard of her father. From across a group of ten, she saw a glimpse of the recognizable hair.

Bolting forward, she raced towards her Father, whose back was to her facing a small fire. Her heart pounded in her chest, while tears of happiness welled. When she came to stand beside she was greeted by a stranger's face. Her heart sunk into her chest. It wasn't him.

In a daze she stumbled forward, careful to only look at those close to her. An hour into her pacing, she came across another familiar body. Not wanting to give herself a false sense of hope again she approached slowly. The messy beard and tuft of hair was unmistakable. His forever furrowed brow and harsh look confirmed his identity, Dwalin. She let out a gentle sigh of relief when she saw his face. When his eyes met hers, she saw him nod. The corner of his mouth lifted. She'd done it. She found one person.

Knowing she found one of her friends, the hopelessness in her heart loosened it's grasp. If she found one she could find others. Not stopping her search, Frin continued on knowing she would come back to him later. The only people left to find was her Mother and Father. As time passed, and she scanned every member of the crowd, the despair took a hold of her once more. The edge of the crowd was nearing and her worst fears with it.

Eventually, she found herself looking out from the crowd at nothing but open ground. Turning around, she stood alone facing the crowd. The enormity of everything came crashing down on her. She crumbled to the ground gasping for air. Her chest tightened as she tried to breathe. Glancing up she realized she was facing the mountain.

For a moment she had hope again. Maybe they were on their way, walking towards her. Before her, smoke rose into the morning sky, drifting from Dale. The mountain peaked out from behind the vale of black. Desperately, she searched the wide expanse between her and the city for a speck, some kind of movement. There was nothing, no one, not a living soul to be seen, just smoke and fire.