A Ruby's Shine (Thorin Oakenshield X OC)

26. Azog The Defiler

I dusted my dirty and torn clothes off, frowning at the damage to my coat, holes poked through it and strains of who knows what plus the dirt and rain didn't do it much good. Luckily this cloak is made of strong material. Now that I can see the cloak in daylight, or what remaining daylight there is, I noticed the dark cloth, nearly black but an off dark shade of blue thrown in. Small dwarf like geometric shapes were stamped into the line of the cloak and the hood before connecting at two dark pieces of metal with criss crossed lines in the metal and then the string tying it off. Looks like there is even a clasp between the two metal pieces to hold it together.

Now that I think of it, I don't think this cloak is Balin's. At least, I have no memory of seeing any of the dwarves wearing this cloak, so who's is it? Well, I don't know who's it is but I am not returning it. I rather like it, even if it is a bit big on me. If the owner of this cloak wants it back, I might fight them for it, it's very rare to find nice but durable cloaks in villages on the road. Most of my cloaks get torn up pretty fast.

I proceeded to check my knives as I pushed the cloak over my shoulders to free up my arms, pleased it stayed as I checked how many knives I lost in that fight. I wasn't too please to find I am not missing five or six knives but that isn't as bad of losses as I thought and I knew I would need to use them sparingly, who knows how many I will still have by the end of this journey.

I was patting my clothes and checking at how torn up my clothes were, when I heard it. I froze in reaching for my boots to check the knives there, my blood turning to ice.

Warg's, howling and on the hunt for blood. Tons of them.

In checking my own condition, I had forgotten all about the goblin king sending a messenger to orcs. Now they must have tracked down our scent, the howls were one too many for a small orc pack. No, this would be a bloodbath. I would say dozens of wargs are in the forest.

I looked up along with the others in horror as we all tensed, looking around in worry. I looked at Thorin with wide eyes as I stood up straight, hand flying to my sword at my waist even though I knew it would do little good. Thorin was tense as well, looking first to the forest behind us then Gandalf as he got into a defensive position, hand on the hilt of his sword.

"Out of the frying pan..." Thorin growled.

"...and into the fire! Run! RUN!" Gandalf finished Thorin's sentence, yelling out the last part because there is no way the wargs didn't pick up the scent. They know we are here, there is no escaping them this time like we did with Radagast and the elves. there are no hiding places here, the evergreen trees to widely spread, and no nearby safe place like Rivendell.

We are stuck to running, we can only hope we might outrun them, as unlikely as that is. But I knew staying here was a death wish and I am not eager to die, so I ran as fast as my twisted ankle could let me, my entire leg bursting with pain but I ignored it as I rast as fast as I can. Sadly, my ankle is damaged enough it would always support my weight, so a stumbled quite a bit over bumpy land. Luckily we didn't have to jump down as the land is smooth or I knew my ankle wouldn't support me then.

I was also lucky sweet Bilbo ran in time with me, grabbing my arm and getting me back to running every time I stumbled, much like I did for him and Bombur before Rivendell. I was grateful he was returning the favor or the dwarves and Gandalf would have left me in the dust.

I glanced back, my red hair flying into my vision and away with every running step I took. The sun was getting real low in the sky and the light in the forest was lessening, making it harder to see. Still, I was able to spot the movement of lithe creatures jumping and racing through the forest in our direction. I looked forward once more as I stumbled again, Bilbo catching my arm once more.