Hiraeth - Thorin Oakenshield

𝐈 . 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐚𝐥

Mylaela tacked up her dark bay mare, glancing over at the Dwarves and their ponies occasionally. Every once in a while, she would catch Thorin sending a glare toward her. Upon accepting to join the journey, she expected his apprehension, though her accurate expectations made his bias no less irritating. Despite her negative feelings towards his race, she at least had the manners to be civil.

Mylaela mounted her steed, Forca, preparing to ride off with the Company. She held back a chuckle as both she and Gandalf's horses towered over the Dwarves on their ponies.

"We make way for the North Passage," Gandalf announced, riding towards the exit of Bree.

"Why ride so close to Rivendell?" Mylaela questioned, holding Forca back from following them, "I was told we were to ride to Erebor?"

Gandalf stopped his horse, turning back to face her, "We need someone to read Thorin's map."

Mylaela scowled, knowing Gandalf wanted Elrond to read the map. She urged her horse on, unprepared to return to the Elven Kingdom. She bit back her tongue, she had already agreed to assist the Grey Wizard in this dreadful mission.

The company began its journey towards the North Passage, Mylaela remaining silent towards the back. The Dwarves talked amongst themselves, refusing to include the Elf in their conversations.

"What business does an Elf have helping us," Thorin grumbled once more to Gandalf, attempting to whisper. Mylaela focused her hearing though, listening in on their conversation.

"Traveling across Middle Earth is not for the weak," Gandalf responded, "Mylaela is familiar with the land. The She-Elf is also known to be an unmatched warrior."

"I do not trust her."

"I do not ask you to," Gandalf sighed, knowing only actions could prove her loyalty, "I ask you to trust my judgment."

Thorin went silent, having nothing more to say on the matter. A few hours passed, the sunlight slowly slipping away.

"We rest here," Thorin announced, dismounting his pony. Gandalf and Mylaela make their way under the fallen building, a look of apprehension on both of their faces.

"It is not safe here, we must move locations," Mylaela countered, feeling a foul aura in the air. Thorin's face contorted in disapproval, "Do not attempt to order me around, Elf. I am the leader of this company, you are simply a pawn."

Mylaela held back from yelling at him, "I will keep watch then, my job is to keep the company alive."

Mylaela nodded curtly, walking to find a nice place to sit and watch over the Dwarves and Hobbit.

"Kili, Fili, you two watch the horses," Thorin ordered, the rest of the company heading towards a fire pit.

Mylaela sat on the outskirts of the campsite as the Dwarves began to cook a stew. A presence next to her took her by surprise. She shifted her gaze, expecting to see Gandalf when instead her eyes landed on the eldest Dwarf.

"I apologize for Thorin," he began, glancing back at his King, "He knows little of the kindness Elves used to show us."

"I am not of Mirkwood," she mentioned, holding onto the broach which held her cloak on, "Rivendell does not approve of Thranduil's betrayal."

"An Elf who has no ill feelings towards Dwarves? You are a rare find, My Lady."

"I did not say I have no ill feelings towards your kind," she interrupted, staring into his eyes for a moment, "your ancestors took lives from many of my kin."