A Tale of Time

Chapter 9: Until Sunrise

"Help?" Thorin shakes his head, resting his left palms against the hilt of his sword. "A dragon attacks Erebor. What help came from the Elves? Orcs plunder Moria, desecrate our sacred halls, the elves looked on and did nothing!" He steps closer to the pair, reaffirming his words. "You ask me to seek out the very people who betrayed my grandfather, who betrayed my father?"

"You are neither of them. I did not give you that map and key for you to hold on to the past," Gandalf argues, his anger growing as the words start to leave his mouth in a hasty spit. But Thorin retorts just as swiftly as Gandalf.

"I did not know they were yours to keep."

Gandalf shakes his head softly and ends the argument. He turns, walking down through the camp, sulking at the stubbornness of dwarves. At least, one in particular. Bilbo, who is patting Balin's dwarf notices the wizard walking hastily through.

"Everything alright?" he questions. "Gandalf, where are you going?"

"To seek the company of the only one around here who's got any sense," he grumbles, not stopping as he passes through all of the onlooking dwarves.

"And who's that?"

"Myself, mister Baggins!" he cries. "I've had enough dwarves for one day."

Gailien sighs from her spot still on the foundation of the rotting house, shaking her head.

"Come one Bombur," Thorin says from next to her. "We're hungry."

Gailien follows Thorin back down to camp, also feeling the hunger grow in her stomach. Dwarves are hardy, meant to not feel the same hunger as man or elves, so if they are hungry, then she and Bilbo Baggins, certainly are.

"He quite likes his dramatics," she says aloud. Not to any dwarf or hobbit in particular but Thorin so happens to be the only one close enough to listen. "Gandalf, I mean."

Thorin eyes her. Something in the way she said that makes him think that she has known Gandalf far longer than the rest of them. "How long have you known him?"

Gailien shrugs, tilting her head slightly to the left to do the math in her head. She had met him in Rivendell when she was passing through there. Not by choice, but her food ration had run out a few days before and it was the closest place at that time. "About two hundred years or so," she answers. She turns her body to the King, biting her lip. "I am truly sorry. About the actions of elves against your kin."

Thorin clenches his jaw, not turning to face the girl but he glances at her from the side of his eye. "Were you there, the day the dragon attacked?"

Gailien doesn't know what he wants her answer to be, but she has nothing but the truth to offer him. "No, I was not. I was in Gondor at that time." She doesn't know if that answer pleases him or not as he walks away without giving her any reaction.

Gailien wants nothing but acceptance from him. Her intentions are true and honourable, yet he continues to disdain her so. Maybe so, but she still has a kindling of friendship with his nephews that she has no intention of letting die out.

The only woman in the company helps Bombur make the stew. The dwarf is quite insistent on doing it alone, as it is his job, but she makes do with helping to cut the meat, leaving the rest to the dwarf. Once it is ready to be served, she grabs two bowls.

Dwalin and Thorin are locked in their own conversation on the edge of the camp, oblivious that dinner is ready and has been called for. She intended for one bowl to be her own, but she can also get another.

Sauntering over, the two dwarves stop their conversation as Dwalin notices the girl approaching. She smiles coyly, holding out the bowls. Gailien is very aware that their conversation has come to a halt in her presence.