Dornessiti (Hobbit Short Story)

Chapter 13

The sound of something scratching at the snow awoke Hazel, and she dragged her exhausted eyes open. Her head was hot with fever, her mind and body swimming with pain. The scrabbling noise continued until part of the snowdrift fell away and a wet, warm tongue started to lap at her face.
"Rhydian? What've you got there?" Called an unfamiliar voice. Had she had her wits about her, Hazel would've flinched and tried to hide, but she was too exhausted for that. The tongue continued to lick her face, the tiny child catching glimpses of a black muzzle.
"Rhydian, leave it," Called the voice again. A soft whine slipped past the creatures lips but loyally retreated back towards the voice. A pair of gloved hands pulled the remaining snow away, revealing Hazel's skinny little form curled tightly in a snow covered ball.
"Valar edraith mín (Valar save us), what do we have here?"
Hazel squinted in the bright light, shivering weakly, trying to make out who was speaking. A female figure with cropped dark hair and intelligent grey eyes met her blurred gaze.
"Pân na-mae, ilverin (All is well, little one). You are safe now," the gentle voice comforted. Two surprisingly strong hands pulled the tiny child from the snowdrift, holding her close inside a warm cloak. The woman hushed Hazel and stroked her hair as she struggled weakly and began to cry, terrified but too feeble to fight back. She was carried through the now settled snow, the woman sinking up to her thighs in the deep drifts while the black wolf bounded ahead, the only part of him visible being his tail as it wagged back and forth merrily. Hazel whimpered and sniffled, laying her head defeatedly against the stranger's shoulder.
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The next Hazel knew, she lay wrapped in blankets in an unfamiliar bed, wearing unfamiliar clothes, in an unfamiliar house. She tried to scream, but her throat was so sore all she did was begin a coughing fit that wracked her entire body. The room began to spin as she sat up, but she dragged herself with all her strength to the edge of the bed, desperate to hide. Her tiny frame hit the floor with a thump, eliciting worried footsteps outside her door. She scrambled under the bed, gasping raggedly for breath and trying not to be sick as black spots appeared in the corners of her vision. The door opened. A pair of bare feet came padding into the room, followed by four black paws. Hazel held her breath, shaking from head to toe with tears streaming down her little face.
"Ilverin? Where are you?" The woman's soft voice asked. She got no answer. Naturally, it was the wolf that found her first. A black muzzle stuck itself under the bed, quickly followed by the rest of the face. The wolf had intelligent orange eyes, set in a long face covered in black fur, tongue hanging out of his mouth slightly. Hazel managed a feeble smile through her tears, reaching a shaking hand out and placing it on the side of his head. The woman knelt beside the bed, leaning down to see Hazel curled up beneath it. The moment their eyes met, she scrambled back and hit a box, raining dust and cobwebs down on her head.
"Hush now, I'm not going to hurt you," the woman said softly. Hazel just stared at her. Her face was too pointed and hairless to be dwarvish, but not perfect enough to be elvish. But it seemed kind. Her skin was fair, her jawline strong, her lips a soft dark pink. Chin length black hair hung a little unkempt around her face. Her grey eyes were the colour of a stormy sky, but seemed surprisingly soft and gentle, albeit a little tired. Hazel whimpered quietly.
"D-Daddy," she managed to say, her voice weak. The woman managed a comforting smile.
"No, ilverin, I am not your daddy. My name is Brianna," she said. The wolf watched Hazel, whimpering softly and nudging her face.
"W-Wolfie," she murmured.
"Yes, ilverin, he is," Brianna encouraged "Why don't you come out and say hello?"
Timidly, Hazel crept out from beneath the bed, feeling sick as soon as she began to move. The wolf greeted her with a lick to the face as soon as she was out from under the bed, curling up next to her and settling with his head on her lap. Slumping sideways, Hazel lay with her head on his back, running her fingers through his thick fur and smiling faintly. Brianna simply watched, knowing she wouldn't get anywhere near the terrified child. Once Hazel had relaxed a little, she spoke:
"What is your name, ilverin, where do you come from?" She asked. Hazel just flinched at the sound of her voice and stayed completely silent. Brianna sighed softly.
"I need to know, otherwise I can't get you back to your family. They're probably worried sick about you," She reasoned softly, the thought of being in the same position making her heart ache a little.
"D-Daddy broke h-his promise, h-he doesn't c-care," Hazel whimpered quietly.
"Oh ilverin," Brianna lamented "I'm sure your daddy loves and cares about you with all his heart. Whatever he's done wrong I'm sure he'd do anything to fix it, as long as you go home to him."
Hazel just shook her head, sniffling and murmuring:
"H-He doesn't c-care."
Brianna could do little but just watch, knowing if she so much as laid a hand on Hazel she'd hide again. She had to find this girl's father, or at least find out where she could take her.
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The door opened and shut downstairs, and a pair of booted feet came plodding up the stairs. Hazel's eyes widened in fear, and she clutched Rhydian's fur tight.
"Shh, it's okay ilverin. It's just Halbaerd," Brianna hushed. Her gentle words didn't change a thing, and Hazel scrambled behind Rhydian as the door opened.
"Bria?" Asked a man's voice, husky and a little strained. Brianna stood and greeted him with a soft kiss to the lips. He was taller than her, and a little older, with a noble bearing and a proud posture. His eyes were soft blue, set in a world weary face lined with stubble around the jawline. His hair hung longer than Brianna's, just brushing the collar of his coat. It was a soft chestnut colour and still speckled with snowflakes. He wore a battered pair of leather boots, dull brown trousers and a dark blue tunic, belted at the waist with a braided leather cord. In his arms lay a small bundle, which began to stir and gurgle quietly. Brianna took the bundle from him, speaking in a soft voice to the tiny baby wrapped inside it. Hazel watched the family with fearful curiosity, clinging to Rhydian's fur like a lifeline. Turning away from his wife and child, the man's eyes settled on the small, terrified child on the floor.
"And who do we have here?" He asked with a smile, crouching down to her. She just stared at him, tears beginning to fall again.
"Leave her be Hal," Brianna cut in gently. He backed away cautiously, until Hazel seemed a little more relaxed.
"Where did she come from?" He asked.
"Rhydian found her in the snow this morning. I don't know how long she was there for," Brianna replied, not looking up from the bundle as a quiet babbling came from within.
"I was waiting for you to return, your healing abilities are better than mine," she continued. Hal nodded.
"When she's well enough, we'll take her to the nearest village and see if we can find someone that knows who she is."
Hazel began to grow dizzy again as they spoke, a sickened feeling growing in her stomach and beginning to churn it. Her head hurt badly, beginning to once again throb with pain. She slid to one side as black spots crept into the corners of her vision, laying against Rhydian and breathing hard. A pair of arms picked her up and laid her on the bed, not paying any attention to the weak attempts at pushing them away. A sweet, herby smell filled the air as Hazel lay there, her head spinning and her stomach churning with the urge to be sick. The last she knew was a soft muttering in a strange language and a cool cloth upon her forehead.