The Revenge of a Huntress

the one with realizations

"Elves?" They asked.

She nodded. "Elves."

"But-How? Why?" Kíli seemed flustered.

"Lord Elrond raised my brother and I from infancy," she explained. "I learned many things up until the age of twenty when our father passed, and we left to go learn the ways of our kin."

The brothers sobered. "I am sorry to hear about your father," Fíli acknowledged.

Huntress grit her teeth. "It is fine. I did not know him."

"Oh."

"He left my brother, Arathorn, and I with the Elf Lord when our mother passed during childbirth. His love for the trees overcame his love for his own children, it seems."

They rode in silence for a few minutes.

"We lost our father when we were dwarflings," Kíli spoke. Huntress looked to him in question. "He was killed in battle when we were young. Our mother and uncle raised us."

She gave them a sad smile. "I am sorry to hear that. You have my sympathies."

They nodded to the ranger, and grim expressions passed upon their young faces, which made the Huntress sigh to herself. It was always difficult when you are the one left behind.

They didn't speak for the rest of the ride. They didn't have to, as they found themselves lost in thoughts of what could have been.

Time went on as the company of Thorin Oakenshield made their way through the forests, and soon night was upon them. Thorin immediately called for the company to make camp for the night, and soon the dwarves started to unload and make themselves at home.

It amazed Huntress how quickly they all moved together as if they had been doing this for far longer than a mere day. Thorin sent Gloin, Oin, and Bofur out to make a fire, first, then had Fíli and Kíli wrangle up the ponies and make sure they were fed and ready for the night.

Ori quickly opened up a journal and started writing things down, while Thorin, Dwalin, and Balin formed a small huddle and started discussing different things. Huntress figured they were covering different things about the quest, as the three were seen as the top-dwarves in charge.

She held in a laugh when she noticed Gandalf off by himself, smoking his pipe, and ignoring the others altogether. Typical isolationist traveler.

Bilbo obviously didn't get the message that the wizard wanted to have some alone time and perched himself next to him and got out his own pipe.

Huntress let herself laugh quietly at the look on Gandalf's face when he noticed the Hobbit's presence.

Deciding to make herself busy, Huntress quickly followed Bombur who was deemed the cook of the company. least Bombur didn't seem to have any problems with her, yet.

"Do you need any help, Master Bombur?"

The well rounded, red-haired dwarf looked at her in surprise. "Why yes, of course, Lady Huntress! Here, you can peel the potatoes, and I will start on the broth."

The dwarf handed her a sack of potatoes with a kind smile, and she quickly got herself to work. Peeling the potatoes was not a hard task and something that she had found herself doing quite often for the cooks in her village.

"You know what you're doing, lassie?"

Huntress looked up from the peelings to see Gloin peering down at her with a stony glare. "Of course, Master Dwarf."

He looked down at the peelings that she had been catching on a piece of cloth she fished from her bag. "Why're you doing that? Bombur, is she supposed to be wastin' a bit of cloth?"