A Tale of Time

Chapter 8: Violated

Chapter 8: Violated

There is no way to know how long they've been in Mirkwood. The only guess can be drawn from the amount of food they have left (not much). Gailien believes it has been nearly two weeks. Two weeks of following the stony path and slowly losing their minds. More than once they've almost lost a Dwarf or two, barely keeping their wits about them.

The Dwarves have succumbed faster than her, but she is slowly starting to meet the same fate. She no longer leads and whatever Dwarf is in the rightest state of mind does so. They have no sleep pattern; they just walk until their stomachs ache and camp is made. Sleep became harder to come by until it is no longer sleeps and more short bursts of naps over a few hours.

Her feet drag along the ground, feeling like someone has coated them in the heaviest metal to exist. Bofur walks behind her, moaning about the lack of air. There isn't anything she can do for him – only make sure he doesn't stray. She wants Kili's company, but she can't even bring herself to search for him.

Gailien lifts her hand to scratch her face but stops short. Her hand is on backwards. Like someone has cut off her hand, turned it around and sewn in back on. She can't take her eyes off of it. The battle on her mind trying to determine what is reality and what is not. But her hand is so clear – nothing fuzzy. They begin to shake, and she lifts her other hand which faces the same fate.

A hand not belonging to her grasps the side of her shoulder. Gailien looks away from her hands, with the eyes of a scared deer at the brunette prince. Kili watches her, silently asking if she is okay. Gailien drops her gaze back down to her hands and to utmost relief, they are back to normal. She clenches her eyes shut, tightening her fingers into fists and pulls them to her chest trying to regain control over their shaking.

Kili's hand shifts around to her back, gesturing forward with a tilt of his head and they return to the rest of the company who is slowly walking past them.

"We need to keep an eye out for food," she says as she and Kili begin walking near Balin and Dwalin. "We don't have much left and it is going to be too dangerous to hunt. Anything – rabbits, birds. If it crosses our path..."

"I haven't seen a single bird this entire time," Dwalin notes, disgruntled.

"I haven't seen a single animal," Kili adds.

"They're out there," Gailien says, looking out to her left past the shadows of trees. "We just haven't been paying enough attention. But we can't afford that luxury now. I have no idea how far off we are from the other side, and I know Dwarves can survive a without food longer than most, but we have a Hobbit as well."

"And you," Kili says, slightly accusingly. "I've seen you beginning to take lesser portions."

It wasn't a secret in Gailien's eyes. She has just been trying to do her part in preserving what they have left. She doesn't need to eat as much as she usually does to sustain herself. "Elves can survive on less food. Not as hardy as Dwarves in that sense, but we are don't require as much as humans or Hobbits."

"You're a half-Elf. If anybody should be eating less, it is Bombur," he growls, sending the large Dwarf a scathing glare. Gailien gives Kili her own short glare, slapping his side with the back of her hand.

"Don't be mean. We wouldn't have our food without him." Kili mumbles some incoherent response. "Or we would but I doubt it would be that edible."

The sun is no longer visible through the trees – not that it does much anyways, and Thorin orders for camp to be made again. The trees have become even denser now in the inner parts of Mirkwood and there is no room for a comfy spread of bedroll. Trees tower over them on either side. No doubt they'll be lying on top of each other.