Chapter 9 - Rivendell

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    An Orc arrow was sent flying towards her, slicing her upper arm. Though it did not embed itself into her skin, the impact was enough for her to plunge to the ground, slicing her arm like parchment. 
This was no normal arrow. It scorched. It stung her like acid, like molten lava.
This was an arrow laced with Necrothon, Ashroot.

    "NO!" Thorin yelled in terror, pushing Kili into the cave as he too was distraught, before leaping towards her.

    Anaynah grunted in discomfort as Thorin hoisted her up from her waist, helping her up to her feet before running back to the entrance. Thankfully, no more arrows were fired.

    "Anaynah!"

    "Reckless!"

    "Are you hurt?"

    The Dwarves clamoured around her as they noticed her ripped sleeve and bleeding arm.

    "I am fine, it is just a scratch."
She reassured as Thorin quickly bound her arm with the remains of her torn sleeve.
    Only then did he see the start of black markings on her arm. Anaynah noticed his lingering eyes and quickly stood up, clutching her wound.

    Before Thorin had a second to process what he had just seen, everyone's stares turned to the entrance when a horn resonated through the air.
    Anaynahs eyes widened. Before she could comprehend, Bifur and Kili had yanked her to the side as a dead Orc came tumbling down the cave. Thorin stepped forward and reached down to pull the arrow out of the foul creature's neck. He raised it to inspect the slender blade.

    "Elves." The leader spat as he tossed the shaft to the ground in contempt.

    "I cannot see where the pathway leads. Do we follow it or no?" Dwalin asked as he emerged from the cave wall. 

    "Follow it of course!" Bofur responded, the Dwarves all now shuffling down the unbeknownst path.

    "I think that would be wise," said Gandalf with a hint of mischievousness in his voice, grinning to himself.

    Anaynah was the last to follow, uneasiness making its way into her heart.

    Dwalin led them on through a narrow path, everyone grunting and groaning as they often found themselves shuffling sideways.

    Sunlight beamed down through the cracks. They continued to squeeze through the twisting cliffs, each step getting more strenuous.

    The air shifted. Something was different.
Something... Indescribable.

    "Gandalf? Where are we?" The Hobbit asked, looking up at Gandalf bewildered.

    "You can feel it?"

"Yes. It feels like-" Bilbo and Gandalf stopped briefly in their tracks, Anaynah too stopping behind them, "well, like magic."

    Magic.

    "That's exactly what it is; a very powerful magic."

    "There's light ahead."
They continued on.

    Anaynahs anxiety had not ceased. She brought her hand up to the cave wall, dragging her fingertips across the ridges of the rocks.
She felt it. 
A feeling that was all but unfamiliar to her.

    Finally, they reached the end of the path.

    Anaynah stepped onto the clearing. Her breath hitched in the back of her throat at the sight of the Hidden Valley gleaming in the golden sunlight.
Not one more step she took. Her gaze softened. She closed her eyes shut, and took in a deep breath of the familiar scent, focusing on the sound of the delicate running water. She had not realised that the anxiety she felt had diminished ever so slightly.

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