The elleth from under the mountain

Lukaine doesnt like ponies

Ontario's P.O.V

Beorn had been kind enough to lend us some ponies, and refill our supplies to help get us to Mirkwood. His only request was that once we reached its borders we turned them loose. He was wary of what lurked in the shadows, and that unnerved me. Had it really changed so much since I had left?

We saddled up his ponies in a small clearing near his house. As I tightened the girth on Lukaine, he suddenly launched out, snapping at the pony Thórin rode. Warning him not to come too close.

"I see Lukaine still has his moments," Thórin commented looking down at me, "Please it's just his natural characteristic," I chuckled, "Those fluff balls are terrifying," I poked, grabbing ahold of handful of mane, with my left foot in the stirrup I easily pulled myself up.

Thórin looked at me unimpressed, blinking slowly, "Fluff balls?".

"Let me know when your ready for a real horse," I grinned, patting Lukaine's neck lovingly, "Is Uncle upgrading his pony?" Kili asked as he and his brother both trotted over, "No just his woman," Fili laughed.

I froze, my breath hitching in my throat. Unsure of what to say or how to react. The comment completely out of the ordinary for the blonde.

"What!?" Kili all but shrieked in surprise, looking at me as if I had suddenly grown an extra head. My cheeks brightened, no doubt a spectacular shade of red as I tried to hide my blush.

I turned to face Thórin, who as always was perfectly composed. "And?" He raised a brow in question to his youngest nephew, who looked like he was about to fall off his horse in shock.

I had no words to describe how I felt. My stomach was churning with nerves, I practically melted in the saddle as Thórin smirked at me.

Nodding his head for me to follow.

A bird squawked loudly over head in warning, we both followed its flight path as it disappeared into the distance.

In an instant our playful demeanour vanished at that one simply sound, "We're being watched," I stated, glancing over at Thórin who nodded at me.

"Gandalf... Time is wasting," Thórin called out to him. The wizard and Beorn were standing up on a ledge a fair way away, engaged in a serious conversation.

"I'd like to know what they're talking about," Dwalin muttered to himself, "Especially as they've taken it upon there selves to delay us," he grumbled. Ever the ball of sunshine he was.

"Do you think you could-," I held up my finger, cutting Dwalin off mid sentence, shushing him.

"The dead had been seen walking near the high fells of Rhudaur,".

"The dead?"

"Is it true? Are there tombs in those mountains?"

"Yes,".

I screwed my face up in confusion, the dead? The high fells of Rhudaur was a place of great darkness and evil. No one, not even an elf of any kind would venture there. To think that anyone would bury their dead there was preposterous.