Serendipity - a Fili Oakenshield Love Story

Chapter 5 - Secrets

Ùsahtiel quickly resurrected herself, rubbing sleep from her eyes, and regained her composure. She slipped off the horse without a word of thanks to Fili, and found herself standing with the hobbit. He seemed glad to be off of the pony and have his hairy feet firmly planted back on the ground.

“Pleasant creatures,” Bilbo said, rubbing the forehead of his pony, and then pulling out his hankercheif to rub his nose, “but I’d rather not ride them.”

Ùsahtiel was only half paying attention to him. Her focus was on Gandalf and Thorin, and she caught a bit of their conversation of Thorin’s refusal to go through the Hidden Pass and seek help from the elves.

She had never been one to like the elves, but then again, she’d never been one to like dwarves, and she’d never heard of hobbits until a few months ago and yet here she was in the midst of then.

She watched as Gandalf turned, shaking his head. Here we go again, she thought, and sure enough he was leaving once more. This time he was more aggitated, and was probably ready to drop-kick Thorin to Erebor if pushed to far.

“Where are you going?” Bilbo called, and it was like deja vu.

“To seek the council of the wisest one around here, Master Baggins!” He snapped over his shoulder.

“And who is that?”

“Myself, Mr. Baggins!” He practically shouted and stormed off once more.

“Will he be back?”

“Most likely.” Ùsahtiel replied quietly. “Wizard’s go off on tempertantrums for days, but they come back soon enough.”

“Days?” Bilbo squeaked.

“He will be back, Mr. Baggins.” Ùsahtiel assured, and began to untack the sweaty pony. She began by pulling off the cooking supplies, and took them over to Bofur. He was, of course, delighted to see her and gratefully took them from her. But with a quick glance at the others, and seeing they were busy untacking as well, he pulled her aside.

“You’re not thinking of going off on yer own, are ya?” Bofur asked, the concern evident in his voice.

“What of it?” Ùsahtiel asked.

Bofur sighed. “I don’t think it’s wise for you to be going off by your wee-self. Not with what you saw last night prowling around.”

“Where I’m from, wolves are part of everday life. They wander on the edge of the villages, attack some of our livestock, and even daring to attack the villagers; a wolf is nothing new to me.”

“Last night, you acted as if it were.” Bofur reminded. “You were petrified.”

“Well, we’ve got to swallow our fear.” Ùsahtiel smiled and turned away before Bofur could say anything else.

She returned to a struggling Bilbo trying to lift the saddle from the pony’s back.

“Oh, here let me help you.” It was the first hint that she was not completley anti-social, and atleast cared a little about the hobbit’s safety. As she was lowering the saddle, she brushed her hand across her temple to move her hair out of her face, and that’s when Bilbo saw it. A shiny pink scar from the corner of her eye, across her temple, and stopping just above her ear.

“Oh my, what-” But Bilbo stopped short, not wanting to bring too much attention to it.

“What?”

“It’s nothing.” Bilbo replied. “So...in Lycur- your land; do you ride horses?” Bilbo would do anything to talk to someone other than a dwarf. They were beginning to rally his nerves with their smart remarks.

“No.” Ùsahtiel replied. “We travel on foot or not at all. The landscape is too harsh for horses to be kept.”

“Oh... I’d never found much use in them myself.” Bilbo said. “Now, when you described your people you said that they weren’t necessarily a pleasant bunch. What did you mean by that?” Bilbo asked, hoping it wasn’t too personal.

If this had been anyone else, Ùsahtiel would’ve turned her back and walked off, but seeing that she could not be secretive the entire journey, and that it was only Bilbo, she decided to tell him.

“The type of men I descend from are almost a-” Well, she was going to tell him, had she not caught Dwalin and Gloin staring over at her. She gave them a hard glare, and they gave it right back before turning away. “I will tell you later; there are ears listening that should not be.”

Bilbo understood, and they continue to set up their camp.

* * * *

It was not long before the dwarves were settled in once more, hunkering down and preparing for supper. Ùsahtiel and Bilbo sat at the edge of the camp, both sharing a thick tree root as a seat.

“What I was saying earlier, about my people,” She began, gaining Bilbo’s attention, “We’re like a...different breed. Honestly, I shouldn’t be sharing this with you, I hardly know you.”

“I could...uh...share a little more about myself, if you’d like.” Bilbo offered awkwardly.

“There will be plenty more time for that. There’s a long road ahead of us. I just believe I should tell you this as a safety precaution.”

“Safety precaution?”

Ùsahtiel ignored his concern and went on with her story. “The race of men I descend from, were only half man.”

Bilbo chuckled. “Are you half elf? Half dwarf?”

Ùsahtiel gave him a stern look, and he nodded and let her continue on with her story. “The other half of the race belonged to a beast called lycanthropes.”

Bilbo’s eyes grew wide, as Ùsahtiel expected. The Hobbit may have been a homebody, but he was not stranger to lycanthropes. He often found remnants of what they use to be in his story books back home. Too bad they were not just stories.

“Werewolves.” Bilbo whispered so low it was almost unheard by Ùsahtiel, who merely nodded. “Does that mean that you’re...”

Ùsahtiel only nodded. “Now you see why I was hesitant to come.”

“And what Ori saw...was that...?” Bilbo trailed off, and Ùsahtiel nodded once more.

“That is why I do not want anyone to stray into the woods at night. That, and other reasons.”

“What made you come with us?”

“All in good time.” She said, patting him on the shoulder. “It’s best you relax for now.”

“I don’t know whether to feel afraid or invicible.” Bilbo half smiled to himself. “A werewolf as a bodyguard.”

They were silent for a moment, Bilbo running images through his head of this beautiful young woman turning into a monstrous wolf. Ùsahtiel was glad atleast someone other than Gandalf knew her secret, and was surprised at how well Bilbo was taking it.

“You can’t tell anyone else.” She reminded him, and Bilbo swore up and down he wouldn’t.

“Oh, I was meaning to ask you, where did you get that scar on your he-”

“Bilbo! Go take this to the lads will ya!” Bofur called him over, holding up two bowls of stew.

“Nevermind.” He quickly said, and excused himself from Ùsahtiel’s prescence.

Yes, she knew what he was talking about. The one scar that was only visible by moving her hair back. She had plenty more, some that were much worse and much larger. Being a lycanthrope didn’t come without it’s pain, and Ùsahtiel knew it all too well.