14. A Quick Departure
How could I fool myself into thinking for one minute that I would have a good night’s sleep in Rivendell? Of course I didn’t have a sound sleep! I was probably the only one who didn’t.
A different nightmare had gotten the better of me last night. The cast was the same as last time, but the scenario was different. We were all engaged in a war: Dwarves, a Wizard, and two Hobbits against a pale Orc and his minions. It poured in the dream, like the last bad one I had had, but it didn’t take place in a forest of any kind. I remembered we had been losing; a few Dwarves had been murdered already.
I remembered hearing everyone constantly tell me to run, that it was not my place to be there. Even Bilbo was telling me this, despite not being Gandalf or any of the thirteen Dwarves. In the dream, I was the helpless one. All I had to me was my dagger, but that hadn’t helped the dead Dwarves any. Those who died had been near me, and I hadn’t done anything to try and save them.
Seeing their still bodies had made me lose focus, Orcs had herded around me, cutting me off from the others who were still fighting. I’d heard the others’ calling out to me. I remembered trying to call back to them, but I had no voice. Words couldn’t get out of my mouth.
The nightmare finally was put to rest after Orcs started piling up on me, suffocating me. There was darkness, snarling, snickering, and a rancid odor. What an awful thing to wake up from. I was glad I hadn’t continued on with the dream, I knew how it would have ended.
I was extremely groggy, wishing to get some more rest. However, I didn’t get the chance to. Bilbo came shuffling in to find me. He looked a bit better than I did, a bit more lively.
“You’re up early,” I noted, yawning hugely.
“So is everyone else. We’re leaving.”
I blinked. “Right now?”
“Thorin wants to get going.” He shrugged.
I groaned, stomping my feet. “The tension between Elves and Dwarves must really be bad.”
“I’m sure that’s partly why we’re going so soon.”
“Right, Durin’s Day.” I ruffled my red hair.
“Get your things.”
Quickly, I did.
Bilbo had to tug me along behind him so I could keep up. I was still half-asleep, almost tripping myself a few times. Rivendell was quiet; the sun was just starting to rise. Ugh, I hated being up when it was barely morning.
We were the last two to meet outside near the bridge. I noticed Gandalf was absent from our group. Had he left already, like he had the night we encountered the Trolls? Were we leaving him behind? If he was being abandoned, it would be stupid. The Wizard had saved us before, it wouldn’t hurt to have him around in case we needed saving again.
Thorin looked at Bilbo and me coldly. Quite honestly, his gaze made me even moodier. I wasn’t going to be happy leaving Rivendell without Gandalf. Dwarves and stubbornness, they must have the worst case of it!
I felt my heart break slightly once we crossed the bridge, leaving the Elven place behind. There was so much I wanted to see; things I still had to do.
“Be on your guard,” I heard Thorin bark up ahead. Right now, his voice was the last thing I wanted to hear. I wanted to focus on the waterfalls. “We’re about to step over the Edge of the Wild. Balin, you know these paths. Lead on.”
My heart dropped into my feet, my mind was finally awake. Cecelia’s letter! I touched my breast, where my sister’s letter was tucked away. I looked over my shoulder as our troop began to march along the pathway.
“Lily.” Bilbo’s voice brought me back to the path. His brown eyes held concern. “Everything okay?”
I put up a faux smile. “Yes.”
“You forgot to give the letter to someone, didn’t you?”
“Do you think I have time to run back?”
His eyes softened. “I think you know what I’ll say, Lily.”
I deflated.
“Master Baggins, Miss Petrova,” Thorin called to us. “I suggest you keep up.” He turned away, blending in the single file line of Dwarves. Bilbo and I looked at each other.
“There’s your answer,” he murmured. He held out a hand for me. “Come on. I’m sure we’ll find another stop. You can have it delivered then.”
Frowning, I let Bilbo lead me on. I couldn’t help but constantly shift my gaze back to Rivendell, where we most likely left Gandalf behind. I really didn’t want to leave the Wizard, only because I didn’t feel safe without him near.
I remembered the last time we were without him; it had nearly cost us our lives to hungry Trolls.
* * *
Despite not having a Wizard by our side, our company fared nicely. Our terrain changed on occasion, which was good. I wasn’t sure about everyone else, but I was positive my legs were burning. I wanted them to be normal again, but I had a feeling that wouldn’t happen for quite some time.
We travelled over flat plains and mountain ranges. It was nice to not feel paranoid about Orcs or Wargs tailing us. No one really spoke as we trudged on, only when we rested and ate did any of the company chat. I was social when it was necessary; otherwise I kept silent, watching the Dwarves socialize.
Like any other kind, Dwarves differed from Hobbits in most ways: stature and appearances. But to me, they shared a thing in common with us: unity. I was sure the fact that they had fought against Orcs in Moria had a thing to do with their close bonds, but I couldn’t help but notice the way they all acted around each other. They all got along, joking with one another, picking on each other. They almost reminded me of children. I guess everyone needed that sort of side to them every now and again.
Well, almost every Dwarf showed a playful side. The only one who remained stone-faced was Thorin, which didn’t surprise me. It was hard to see him have a laid-back side to him anyway, with what he’d endured. He was the leader of our group; somebody had to be the chief, the one to push everyone in the right direction.
We were settled down for the night, supper had just been finished. We had a small fire going, the Dwarves decided to have a little sparring contest. I watched in earnest, curious to watch the Dwarves spar with each other. Thorin, naturally, dominated. The closest match he’d had was with Fili, who almost had him beat. Sadly, in the end, the young Dwarf was no match for the leader. Thorin didn’t look as smug as his companions would have been had they been in his position, but I could see a faint gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. I pursed my lips, wondering if anyone was going to have another shot at trying to dethrone the champion.
“Say, why not have Red try?” Fili volunteered me.
I shot him a wide-eyed look. “Are you mad?” I stammered.
“Come on, if anyone can beat him, you can!”
“If you haven’t noticed, I’ve never used a sword in my life. None of yours fit me, and a knife doesn’t count.”
“Mine fits you,” Bilbo piped, putting the hilt of his mini-sword in my hand. I looked at him. “Give it a go.”
“Since when do you take their side?” Nevertheless, I didn’t hand Bilbo’s sword back to him.
Thorin had a neutral face, but I was positive he wasn’t all for the idea of facing off against me. I tested the weight of the sword in my hand. It felt maneuverable enough. Hmm, this should be interesting.
“Anybody care to place bets before we begin?” I called, hoping to make things even more exciting for the spectators.
“If we had anything to wager on, we would!” Kili said.
“There’s no way she’s going to win with that letter opener of hers,” Fili snickered.
“Hey!” Bilbo and I snarled. Now more determined to best Thorin, I stepped in the arena to face him. A gentle breeze picked up, billowing loose strands of my hair in my face. I let the sword dangle at my side.
Never taking my eyes off Thorin, I slowly advanced. He mirrored me, staying trained on me while at the same time closing the gap between us. His business-like stare should have had me cowering on the spot, but I was used to his looks. If he thought I would back down because of one measly gaze, Thorin didn’t know me.
Finally impatient, I took the first strike. Thorin blocked me easily, thrusting me backwards. I stumbled back only to quickly duck and dodge his swift swipes. I knew this was no life or death match, but I was still concerned each time his sword came closer to a part of my body, no matter what it was.
“You can take him, Red!” Kili encouraged me. “Use your size!”
That’s exactly what I did. I ducked from Thorin’s high swipes, slashing at his legs. He jumped away, going for a chop to me. I had enough time to block him. My arms shook the longer our swords were locked together. A collective breath was held in the audience.
I could feel a vein pulsing in my forehead. Thorin had to be going easy on me. He probably thought I would lose to him if he displayed his true skills. I wouldn’t disagree; I had no skill with a sword. I was only barely trained in archery, and there wasn’t much to know in terms of using a knife as a weapon.
I swore Thorin was letting me win, because before I knew it, I had him down on the ground, my “letter opener” tip pointed right at his throat that was protected by his beard. Our audience murmured. I slowly backed away from Thorin, turning on my heel.
I took five steps before whirling around to clash my sword with his. It was definitely too easy, I confirmed.
“You’re not as vulnerable as you seem,” he noted gruffly, pulling his sword back. My breath was slightly labored.
“If I have to fight, I have to.” I shrugged. “I’ll be on my guard when I need to be. And I know you were going easy on me. With the tale Balin told, it’s obvious you’re much better than what you showed tonight. I hope to see the true master down the road, whenever I decide I want to be trained up a bit with a sword.”
“So what’s the decision on that?” Kili whimpered. “Who’s the winner?”
“We didn’t finish, so nobody wins,” I said simply. “It was a test for me, to see if I had any skill, no matter what it was. And for the record, this letter opener is a fine sword for a Hobbit.” I snorted. “It’s light and strong.”
“Don’t think you’re just leaving that quickly.”
I blew out a breath. “Kili, I really don’t want to continue with this.”
“Why not? What else do you have to do?”
“Hmm, I don’t know. How about sleep?”
“I’ll let you after you’re done with me.” Kili pulled out a sword I had never seen on him until tonight. Thorin, realizing he was relieved from the arena, stalked off. I wished I was in his place right now.
“You’re really asking for it,” I warned the Dwarf.
“What are you going to do, Red? You have almost no experience with a sword.”
“Enough talking! Just fight already!” Fili encouraged.
Despite being tired, I kept myself alert enough to block Kili’s first strike. I didn’t feel as pressured this time, as I wasn’t facing Thorin. Facing Thorin compared to Kili was much different. Thorin and I dueled because he wanted to see if I could fight or not, Kili just wanted to have his turn with me.
Even though this was only a mock match and for fun, I didn’t want to be in it for too long. I wanted to sleep, and aggravating a moody Hobbit wasn’t smart on Kili’s part. I let him know that by fighting back, throwing him off balance. Some of the Dwarves were whispering things, but aside from that, they were quiet.
It was an exchange of blows, neither of us was holding back. Kili wasn’t being a gentleman and going easy on me, and I wasn’t letting my sleep-deprived state get the better of me. However, I lost focus for the smallest second. It was enough for Kili to slip an attack in.
When I blocked his attack, the impact was so strong that my sword flew from my hand, landing in the grass. Not caring that I was weaponless, I dove for the sword. I was just reaching for it when I felt cold metal light on my throat. I blew out an irritated breath, suddenly not in the mood to continue this further.
“I think we’re done here,” I snarled.
“You’re not even going to try?” Kili held fake hurt in his voice.
“I’m tired. Put the sword away from my throat, please.” I relaxed when I no longer felt a cold presence on my throat. I grabbed Bilbo’s sword as I got to my feet. My eyes narrowed. I tried to ignore my theory about what Dwarf took a liking to me according to Bilbo. “If I wasn’t so worn out, this would not be over.” I exited the arena, forfeiting the match.
I approached Bilbo, handing his sword back to him.
“I think you’d make better use of it than me,” he said. “If it were me out there, I wouldn’t have lasted long.”
“It’s yours,” I said persistently. “Gandalf gave it to you. Besides, I’ve got a knife and arrows. If we find a spare that suits me, I’ll keep that one.” I smiled thinly.
“Do you see who I mean now?”
I snorted. “I’m trying to not think about it, Bilbo. I’ve got other things to focus on. I know where my head is at, and nothing is going to change that. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll try and get some sleep.”
Even though Bilbo and I were thinking of the same Dwarf, I needed proof before I could even accept it. Though I’d admit I was growing fond of some of the Dwarves, the brothers in particular, it didn’t go past sibling-love. I would never see them as anything more.
As I forced myself to settle down for the night, my thoughts roamed to Jack, how happy and strong our marriage was. I pictured us fawning over my growing belly. Am I actually considering starting a family when I go back home? It didn’t sound like a bad thing, but I had never considered motherhood before. This was the first time the thought ever popped into my head.
Once I was done this adventure, another awaited me back home.