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A high-pitched scream split the night sky.
"What was that?" Bilbo asked, running over to where Kili, Fili and Alenia were sitting around a fire.
"Orcs," Kili answered, gazing into the flames.
"Orcs?" Bilbo repeated, hoping he had heard wrong.
"Throat-cutters," Fili said. "There'll be dozens of them out there. The lowlands are crawling with them."
"They strike in the wee small hours, when everyone's asleep," Kili added. "Quick and quiet; no screams, just lots of blood."
"You think that's funny?" Alenia asked quietly, her mind flashing back to the night of her parents murder. "You think a night raid by orcs is a joke?"
The brothers shared a look, before Kili wrapped an arm around the young woman, his eyes wide and repentive. "We didn't mean anything by it."
Alenia pulled out from under the young dwarf's arm. She stood, walking towards the cliff to sit at the edge, her legs dangling the open nothingness.
"No, you didn't. You know nothing of the world," Alenia heard Thorin say, before he moved to stand near her on the cliff.
"Don't mind him, laddie," Balin said quietly. "Thorin has more cause than most to hate orcs. After the dragon took the Lonely Mountain, King Thror tried to reclaim the ancient dwarf kingdom of Moria. But our enemy had got there first."
He took a breath before continuing, "Moria had been taken by legions of Orcs lead by the most vile of all their race: Azog, the Defiler. The giant Gundabad Orc had sworn to wipe out the line of Durin. He began by beheading the King. Thrain, Thorin's father, was driven mad by grief. He went missing, taken prisoner or killed, we did not know. We were leaderless. Defeat and death were upon us. That is when I saw him: a young dwarf prince facing down the Pale Orc. He stood alone against this terrible foe, his armor rent...wielding nothing but an oaken branch as a shield. Azog, the Defiler, learned that day that the line of Durin would not be so easily broken."
Alenia could hear the dwarves that were asleep waking up, turning to look at their leader, as Balin continued, "Our forces rallied and drove the orcs back. Our enemy had been defeated. But there was no feast, no song, that night, for our dead were beyond the count of grief. We few had survived."
She heard Thorin turn to face the dwarves, so she swivelled her head to look at him as well.
"And I thought to myself then, there is one who I could follow. There is one I could call King."
Thorin's footsteps moved away from the cliff, back towards the fire.
"And the Pale Orc? What happened to him?" Bilbo asked. Alenia shivered at the name, remembering the grief he had caused her and her family.
"He slunk back into the hole whence he came. The filth died of his wounds long ago."
Alenia winced.
Kili looked at her, wondering. She turned away, looking up at the moon, hiding the silent tears rolling down her cheeks.
"Gandalf, what of Alenia?" she heard the dark-haired prince ask.
"That is not my story to share," The wizard replied sadly.
Alenia stood and grabbed her blanket from Livvy's flank, and curled up next to her horse. The world went dark as she fell asleep.
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a/n:
this is one, two, three, four, five. no. six! six days late. oops. i also missed the chapter from yesterday so i'll post that next.
vote/comment if you want... or don't. i'll see y'all in the next chapter.
