Several hours passed, Braerka was left to her own thoughts and devices, which in many ways wasn't good. She spent the first while filling in her journal, feelings, thoughts and questions, things she wanted to express but couldn't, or wouldn't. Then she riffled through the assassination contract for what seemed the millionth time.
It was as though she was trying to will the name of her target to vanish or change at least. She read the last line, 'at the request of 'blank'', she sighed, whoever wanted him dead clearly wanted it done secretly and now it would never be done, not by her hand anyway, unless there was a very good reason. She folded it at its creases as slipped it back into bag.
She sat for a while, staring into space, thinking of things, nothing in particular just things. She soon found herself battling with her eye eyelids and they tried to flutter closed. She knew she needed the rest, but she was on watch, what Thorin would think if he woke to see her asleep. She smacked her cheeks gently to keep herself awake, but to no avail she was losing her battle with fatigue and was slipping into the lands of dreams. As her eyes shut tight, she prayed for her rest to be quick.
Her subconscious mind opened on a field of black. There was nothing for miles in every direction, Braerka stood bewildered in her dreamland; never before had this happened.
As she thought it the scene morphed into a raging terror. The streets were mobbed with people and she was stuck in the middle, forced to watch as her mind processed it all.
It was like before, the scenes were fleeing and quick lasting less than a couple of seconds. They morphed and phased, colourless and mute, from scene to scene, blurring and clearing she had no time to register their contents.
It finally stopped on a spectacle too familiar for comfort. The ground was stained red and a battle raged around her, she was running. Then she was stuck facing a wall, she heard muffled voices call for her, she turned to be engulfed by a wall of flames, the heat licked at her flesh and she tried to scream but there was no sound.
A blinding light took her sight and she was left in darkness once again. Light slowly returned, though the scene was still bland of colour. She stood unharmed in the now calm battlefield, looking at the ground she saw arrows protrude from both living and dead and deformed bodies were strewn across the ground.
In the distance the faint clashing and clanging of brandished swords could still be heard, hammers pounded and bashed. She found herself trudging through the blood-soaked mud and towards the racket.
Her eyes flicked from face to face as she traversed the once vigorous battleground, their faces blurred and unknown. What more could she expect from a dream?
Suddenly all noises stopped. She stopped her advance and spun on the spot, but there was nothing, the image began to fade and the blackness swarmed her again, her vision was stolen and she felt weightless; as if floating in the void between worlds.
She heard voices faint but angry, gentle but serious. She listened to the unknown voices as they chanted in unison.
"You are the Sovereign! Only you can manipulate its power! But you are weak; you will sacrifice what is not truly yours! You must let go of all you know, give in to control! Save him!"
She listened as they faded, a high-pitched whirr sounded and again all was black, she was back on the battlefield, her head spinning.
What was all this, what did it mean? She stood on the frozen battlefield, speechless her core aching, this was too much for any one person to witness. She heard a noise behind her, a rustling of metal and chain mail, lazily she turned. Her eyes meet the falling shadow of an axe and the final dark spell fell. This nightmare was ending, another beginning; it was time for her to wake up.
Her eyes snapped open. She breathed heavily, and took a quick look around. She still was in the cave, the dwarves still lay asleep, and all was calm, save for the heart pounding against her ribcage.
Why were these images plaguing her sleep? It had been similar to the dream in Rivendell, only longer and more vivid. She hated it; she hadn't experienced nightmares so vivid since she was a child, why now had they decided to start again?
She recounted the dream, repeating the words she had heard when it dawned on her. The voices in her dream, the whirring, could it be that the high-pitched static of the stone giants actually meant something and was translating in her head. Was that why no-one else seemed to be affected by it? It seemed crazy but it was the only logical explanation, 'When did logic have anything to do with it?' she asked herself.
She thought about the meaning, 'Save him', who? Thorin? That would be a pretty stupid message seeing as that was what she was tying to do already. The rest of it however, made no sense at all, 'Sovereign, manipulate its power, sacrifice', what did it all mean? Maybe in time they would make sense but at that moment, it was beyond her.
She glanced at Thorin's sleeping form and gulped, considering the origin on the recurring nightmares. 'It couldn't be because of him, it couldn't!' she established subconsciously. She looked at the others, 'it couldn't be!'
She mulled over the facts, the dreams had only started soon after she'd encountered them, it seemed plausible that they were the cause, but then again the Soul Reaver hadn't been working properly either, maybe it had triggered them as a side effect of not doing it real job properly.
She buried her head in her hands and ruffled her hair. The sensation was refreshing and woke her slightly more. Suddenly she felt a deepening guilt way up in her gut, she looked at Thorin again.
"I have to tell him!" She quietly gasped, brushing her hair off her face.
Regardless of the cause of these nightmares, she somehow felt that telling him might help stop them. There was no real logic to her thinking but she noticed the guilty feeling faded when she considered it and decided it the best course of action.
Her breathing slowly calmed as she came to the conclusion. If she stayed she would have to tell him who she really was, he would find out sooner or later, and she knew his temper if she left it too long, like she already had, he wouldn't believe her. She thought about leaving for split second, her bag was packed, she could avoid it all if she just left, and they would be none the wiser.
But she couldn't bring herself to leave; she had to protect them, Thorin especially. By neglecting to fulfil the contract she had put his life at more risk, they would now come to collect his head and her own. Her mind raced, there were so many things she had neglected to think about before allowing him to live, and now they were all chasing after her just about ready to bite her in the behind.
She considered what she would be doing now had she decided to kill him there and then, hanging from that branch in the Ettendales. It seemed a lifetime away from where she was now. Had she ended him there she wouldn't have all these problems, would she? There was no telling whether that was true or not and there was no way to go back and change it.
She smiled thinking how different it could have been, how she would never have meet them, never met Kili. Her smile broadened on thinking of him, he was… well… he was Kili. He made her smile like no one else before Thorin had. She felt safe with him too, something she couldn't fully understand and didn't want to, the feeling was good enough. But she was still unsure of it all.
Her mind darkened on thinking of his response to her true identity, of how she had deceived them, but there was no turning back, she had to tell him.
There was a gentle shuffling from the back of the cave, Braerka stopped her thinking and pressed herself against the wall behind her, 'what am I doing?!' She scolded herself, she was being stupid. It was more than likely one of the others, but whom?
Her question was soon answered after some more rustling and a few soft steps across the cave floor a body came into view... Bilbo. He was fully dressed, with the bag on his back and his stick in his hand, 'what on earth?!' he avoided eye contact and continued to walk to the cave entrance with increased pace.
"Hey! Where are you going?" She asked briskly, jumping to her feet before he could leave. He looked at her, his eyes full of what looked like sadness.
He looked everywhere but at her, then after a short while he finally answered. "To Rivendell" he said plainly.
She sniggered in confusion, "What… Why?"
He laughed at her ignorance, "humph... I don't belong here! Thorin said so! He's right!"
He was taking what Thorin had said earlier to heart, she shook her head thinking him foolish for doing so, but then she remembered he didn't know him so well.
"Ignore him! He just needed somebody to blame! It's what we all do under pressure... come on, back to sleep" she urged him, trying to take his hand but he pulled away.
"No... Thorin has hated the idea of a hobbit going on this quest since Gandalf suggested it! And he's right to; I'm more trouble than I'm worth!" His eyes hit the floor and stayed there.
She shook her head, 'you're being so silly I could slap you!' She thought.
"Don't talk like that; you're worth all the trouble you can get into! And who cares what he thinks, you are part of the company..." He cut her off.
"But I'm not thought am I?" He sighed, "I should never have ran out my door, I should have stayed in the Shire!"
That's when it struck her, "You're homesick, Bilbo! That's all! And we..." She gestured to the others, "... we understand..."
He cut her off again, "No you don't! You're used to this... traveling around, sleeping in the wild, moving from place to place... Not belonging anywhere!"
She felt the latter of his argument sting her, it was true, even she knew she didn't belong and neither did the dwarves, but that what the quest was all about right? Reclaiming their home and having a place to belong?
Bilbo must have known he'd hurt her feelings, "I'm sorry... I wasn't thinking... I..."
"No you're right, we don't belong. But this quest is them changing that, don't you see, they're taking back their home, getting a place to belong!" She explained to him, venting her anger with rough sentences. She knew she wasn't included in her own justification, she really didn't belong anywhere. Dale was gone, she was never going to welcome in Windermere for at least another century, and she had nowhere to call home.
"And you? What are you changing?" He asked, noticing she had excluded herself. She knew she was a mystery and the questions were inevitable, but it still remained that she wasn't really sure what she was changing, or why she had even chosen to tag along.
"Myself…I guess" she answered. "I'm trying to find myself, because to be honest Bilbo, I don't know who I am!"
He looked confused, "but you're Shepard!"
"Yes, but that..." she trailed off, realising she was about to compromise herself.
"That's not your real name... is it?" Bilbo asked, his voice showing the deepest understanding, she would never have expected this from a hobbit. She didn't answer just simply nodded.
She sighed; if he wanted to go home she may as well let him. She wouldn't like anyone to stop her from doing as she pleased; she wasn't going to stop him.
"If you're leaving you had better go now! I'm gonna miss you, Bilbo." She said, placing a warming hand on his shoulder in a farewell gesture, he pulled her in a hugged her. He really was full of surprises.
"Tell him, he'll understand, I hope, Good luck!" He said, looking on the bright side of things.
"Good luck to you too!" She said, slightly calmed. He knew exactly how to relax people in the worst of situations.
As he turned to go out, she caught a glimmering blue light from below his belt, she stopped him; she had to be sure.
"What's that? Glowing?" She asked him pointing to his belt, her worried tones probably speeding his heart. He turned back to her and looked to his belt, there was a thin blue line of light seeping through the scabbard of his sword, he partly drew the sword, and the metal was alight glowing as blue as the Soul Reaver would. They looked at each other with worried eyes, 'oh god no!' She thought. An elvish blade glowing blue could mean one two things, or both at once.
Her first thought was to wake the others, but Thorin had beaten her to it, "Everyone! Up! Wake up!" He bellowed, his voice resonating through the cave.
She didn't take time to process his words, anxiety rushed her. Had he been awake the whole time, had he heard...? She began to panic and the others hurriedly woke themselves, a loud creaking sound started, 'wood and hinges' she identified.
There was a low hissing noise, everyone was silent, she looked to the floor, and a line was forming down the middle of the room. Then the floor tipped in on itself, and they were sent into free fall. Bilbo, who was just standing on the edge of the wide gap, lost his balance and fell head first after them.
They all screamed and grunted as they slid down the tunnel below them, they hit off walls and out cropped rocks, it was less than enjoyable. They flew across the wall some of their belongings trailing alongside them; Braerka's bag was safely around her.
The fall lasted a lifetime, and when she hit the hard ground, she half expected it to give way. The others landed shortly after, there was a pile up when the space ran out, she knew when exactly when Bombur had landed, the mass increase on her back was obvious.
A few short seconds later, she was being helped up, by none other than Kili. He held her close and protectively behind her. They were in a semi-circled cage; one way in one way out, it was crafted of rusted iron, rotten bones and weak strapping.
After another few short seconds, a distressing din of screeches and wails came from around the corner, Goblins. Within moments they were being hauled from there prison and were pushed and jabbed down the pathway of rickety aged rotten bridges. It was madness, Kili's grip on her hand was broke and she was forced towards the heart of their underground fortress. She fought back but it was hopeless, there were too many, and more were coming.
They pressured them down deeper into the heart of this 'Goblin Town', the stink was horrid, it burned her nostrils and she longed for fresher air, she wished she was outside still being drenched in the pouring rain. But she wasn't, she incessant screeching of the foul creatures echoed in the cavern, prevented her mind from showing her that.
Soon all of them were being jostled and whipped forward, further down the pathways, with no lack of rebuke or cursing. She fought their hooky grips and tried to wrestle her way free but there numbers were endless, there was no way out.
Despite their situation she couldn't help but try to find Thorin, if he had heard Bilbo and her speak, she would have some explaining to do. This wasn't necessarily bad, but it was far from the calm confession she had intended.