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05 | MERIDA'S PLEDGE

"We'll camp here for the night. Fili, Kili, look after the ponies. Make sure you stay with them." Thorin says pointedly, knowing his nephews a little too well. They are likely to lose all sixteen ponies by accident, somehow.

"A farmer and his family used to live here," Gandalf looks around, examining the old, musty home. The walls are half torn down, and the place itself is exuding dark energy. Every elvish muscle in my body is repelled by it, but I'm human enough that I can ignore it.

"Used to?" I hiss, horrified at the insinuation.

We exchange looks, and I know what he feels, or suspects. Something is wrong here.

"I think it would be wiser to move on. We could make for the Hidden Valley." Gandalf speaks to Thorin now, who looks no happier.

I sigh, strolling away from them to find a place to sleep. This is a worthless conversation. "There's no point in this, he'll never."

They both ignore me, as Gandalf looks increasingly annoyed as he begins to explain the benefits of Rivendell. Personally I agree with Gandalf, the elves could help. Surely not all the elves can be that bad? Also, Rivendell should be beautiful. All the rumours in books about it call it one of the finest elven kingdoms. The Valley of Imladris would be a dream come true, to see the elves, and train with them. But Thorin would never agree to it, not even while Gandalf advises it.

"I did not know that they were yours to keep." Thorin snaps again, angry, as Gandalf argues with him.

Gandalf doesn't deign to answer, instead turning around to storm out of the company. "Where are you going?" I race after him, grabbing his arm as he tries to pull away, heading towards the forest. He can't leave me here!

"To seek the company of the only one around here who's got any sense."

"Yes, me!" I agree, nodding vigourously. "You can't leave me here! What if we need you? I don't like this, something feels wrong."

Gandalf leans forward to whisper in my ear, and I catch Bilbo's eyes on us, evaluating. He seems overly suspicious of me, which could be because I stole a few things from Bag End. However, I know he appreciates that I'm not a dwarf, and so may even be slightly concerned for me, as I hang onto Gandalf's arm like a lost pet.  "If you need anything, remember the jewels I gave you."

With that, he's gone.

I do remember the jewels, in fact. Mundane things, hardly worth the care they're wrapped in, the two cloudy white jewels are unusually light, and don't seem at all useful. They don't glow with anything special, they're dill, and a waste of space. Gandalf claims they will summon him, but wouldn't explain how, or why, or anything. Normal wizard business.

"Is he coming back?" Bilbo asks me, worried.

"Of course," I assure him, unsure.

It's late, when Bombur finally finished making soup. Say what you want about dwarf cooking, but it's far better than anything I could do. Usually all I eat is bread, which explains why I have no muscle. At this point, Gandalf has been gone half the night, and the sun has been down for hours. I just wish to sleep, fall into the peaceful slumber of my dreams and stay there for a few hours. My blanket feels so warm and inviting, and my bedding looks softer than usual. My legs are aching, tired from walking and riding for hours. Sadly, I suppose nothing ever goes as planned.

Kiki rushes into our home (well, not quite ours, but where we're staying), screaming "Thorin!" as if his life depends on it.

The man in question looks up, casting a questionable glance at his mischievous nephew. "What is it?"

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