The Northern Mountains

~Seven~

seven

The company came to a stop for the night on a small rocky plain, amidst a circle of trees.

The dwarves set themselves all up, while Jon helped his Lady from her horse, kissed her knuckles making her smile before she took a seat by the fire as he led away both their rides to where the others had hitched their ponies.

Bomber took charge with their dinner, roasting the bunnies that Kili had shot. Everyone else took their place around the campfire, Jon sitting right behind Hartlyn, letting her lean back against his chest. He watched with dark eyes as the dwarves skittered about, eating, joking and talking amongst one another, while silent he remained.

After a few minutes, judging by the slow, peaceful breathing of his beloved, he could only assume she had fallen asleep.

:3

Hartlyn woke to the small whimpers and the muffled screams of a certain hobbit, as well as finding a pair of young dwarves telling particular stories. And though she was warm and comfortable, resting on the chiseled chest of her lover who breathed in and out, the steadiness of the rise and fall threatened to lull her back asleep.

But the annoying cries were too much and up sat the Mistress, her loose flame red hair even more tousled and wild from her slumber, before the witch practically marched over to the tormenting brothers.

"-Throat-cutters. There'll be dozens of them out there." The blond dwarf said, Fili she believed his name was.

"The lone-lands are crawling with them. They strike in the wee small hours when everyone's asleep-" The other, Kili, added before Hartlyn shut them both up,

"What do you think you're doing?" she snapped, her hands on her hips.

All three swung around to meet the immortal's piercing green eyed gaze, the trio completely taken aback by her otherworldly beauty with the firelight dancing around her face. No anger betrayed her features but her distaste for their trick was clear to them.

"Such things are nothing to joke about." Hartlyn's sleep filled voice was gravelly and apparently pleasant to the ears as both dwarves shivered. She really liked these boys, but honestly.

The two stuttered for a moment while Bilbo inched himself closer to the woman who'd 'saved' him.

"She's right." Thorin grumbled appearing out of the shadows of the trees and Hartlyn wasn't sure if his annoyance was due to having to agree with her or that he had been woken as well as her.

"We didn't mean anything by it." one of the two mumbled.

"No, you didn't. You know nothing of this world."

Hartlyn had to stop herself from rolling her eyes and turned away from the dwarf king, not really wanting to hear his life story, told by the white haired dwarf who had appeared behind him and was walking their way. It really meant nothing to her. If he wanted her respect, he would have to earn it.

She knew sympathy achieved nothing. The witch despised being pitied and she could tell the tall dwarf felt the same.

The redhead waited by the fire, staring into the blazing light as screams from her past life began to echo into her mind. Faces twisted in pain.. none could she place. Voices begging for mercy... none could she remember. Screams for life...none could she recall.

The coppery, metallic taste of blood danced on her tongue, making her queasy. She was shaken from her thoughts when a small hand wrapped around her forearm, and down into the concerned honey eyes of Bilbo Baggins did Hartlyn gaze.

"Miss Harry?"

The Mistress gave him a tight, close lipped smile, at him and pulled him close into a warm hug, "I'm fine, Master Hobbit. Come, bring your pack closer to mine. Mayhap sleep find you now."

He smiled back at her and the witch turned to find Jon still lying down but with his sharp, black eyes on her. To anyone else his face would look bored or unimpressed, but Hartlyn could see his worry and concern for her.

Bilbo pulled his pack to about four feet away and the redhead laid down beside her soulmate between the two. She stroked his eyelids close with her thumbs and a kiss to the jaw made him sigh tiredly.

"Think nothing of it, my love. Just... sleep."

:3

The warmth of his beloved pressed against his chest stirred Jon from his dreams. Even after so long, it was still a surprise that he now had a life where he was wanted and had a woman who loved him more than the skies and stars above.

The gentle weight of her had him relaxed and made the former Night's Watchman feel whole. The raven haired man lifted a heavy hand to sift his fingers through the flame red tendrils of her curled, wild hair, loving the softness.

Jon watched the sun rise over the valley and as it did, so did the dwarves, slowly and grumbling about the slight morning chill that the sun was gradually chasing away.

He looked back down at the sleeping immortal and stroked her pale, freckled cheekbone. Hartlyn mumbled his name, her voice thick with sleep, making Jon smirk.

"You'd best be waking her soon, laddie, we still have a long way to go." An old dwarf, Balin, suggested in a hushed, but friendly and amused tone.

"That, dear master dwarf, is a very bad idea. My love may not be a dragon, but wake her and she will breathe fire."

The white haired dwarf bowed his head with a slight smile before turning away to his own pack.

Jon, however, effortlessly swept Hartlyn up in his arm and the witch, still asleep, instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck. He walked carefully over to the horses, trying his lady's horse to his own before skillfully straddling his horse. He smirked down at the stunned dwarf, "As you can see...this isn't my first time."