mithril

IV.

— IV —

Thorin is glowering at everyone and everything as we settle into the cave out of the rain. He leans against the rock wall, arms crossed and staring at the ground. I pause before him, intending to go deeper into the cave. I take a second to look at the Dwarf carefully. I sigh internally before stepping forward. Thorin looks up at my presence, eyebrows drawn in annoyance. I gesture with my head for the cave entrance. He rises without complaint, following me away from the ears of the other Dwarves.

"I do apologize for throwing myself into your company, Thorin. I hope you understand I'm not trying to undermine you in any way." It's a soft side the Dwarf hasn't seen before. I purposely allow him to view it now in an attempt to make peace between us. "I truly didn't intend to, at first. I left Imladris with my mind set towards the Woodland Realm, but..." I trail off, looking away from his harsh gaze. That is the truth, after all. I was planning on following the Dwarves to Mirkwood, but then I had actually set out on my path and everything changed.

I knew the very moment he stepped out of Imladris because there had been a strange tug tug sensation in my stomach. I knew the path of the dwarves because of that feeling. It was how I found them in the Wild beyond the hidden valley. It was how I knew it was now my task to follow the company, and Thorin, to the ends of Middle Earth.

I wasn't going to part with them anytime soon.

"I will not protect you in the Wild."

"I don't expect you to, nor do you need to. I am capable." He starts to scoff. My hand snaps out from under my cloak, catching his arm. He freezes at the bold gesture "Let me care for the Burglar. Someone who doesn't talk down on him will do him some good."

"Fine," he snaps, "I will not mourn your death."

"Then it's a good thing you won't need to," I grin. My Draug Rae. He steps away from me, sliding back into the shelter of the cave. I stay outside a moment longer, taking in the darkness of the night as the rain continues to fall.

By the time I walk back in, most of the company is asleep. I settle myself against the wall, relatively apart from the rest of the company. I close my eyes slightly, listening to Bofur as he takes watch.

I must fall asleep, for Thorin's loud shout is the next thing that rouses me. I blink blearily for a moment before coming to my senses with a yelp. Beneath us, the ground has split. It opens with a strange orange glow, generating a cry of surprise from the company as the prone Dwarves start to slip towards the pit. My voice joins theirs as I slide towards the chasm, my fingers scrabbling at the smooth wooden door we'd been resting on.

We fall through the air, shouting and crying out as we bump into each other and off the walls of the stone tunnel. My hands are scrabbling for something to grab as I fall, trying to stop this terrible feeling as my stomach drops over and over again. I think I'm going to be sick by the time we land in a large pile. Hands and feet and the handle ends of weapons poke into my sides. I kick away from the group, throwing Dwarves off my back and trying to right myself. I hiss slowly as I look up and find that we are utterly, terrifyingly, surrounded.

"On your feet," I rasp, voice hoarse from yelling. I rise slowly and cautiously, poking at the Dwarves nearest to me with my boot. "Now," I urge. My eyes are wide and trained on the host around us. I start to reach for the sword at my hip, but a sharp spear tip digs into my back. The Goblin wielding it grins at me wildly. Deranged.

"Not so fast, pretty thing," he snaps. "Now move!" The Dwarves are rising around me, being similarly poked and prodded by the Goblins. My eyes find Thorin, who is at the front of the party. He shakes his head subtly, motioning to where the Goblins are pushing us. A silent command to stand down, for now. My hand falls from the pommel of my sword and I start to reach for Bilbo.