Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The company settled into a very monotonous rhythm over the next few days.

They traveled along the Great East Road, stopping only periodically so the company could answer the call of nature, eat, or give the ponies a chance to rest. By sundown they would veer off the road to find an inconspicuous place to rest for the night, where the dwarves would work together to set up camp. Bombur would cook their dinner, the company would chat and laugh amongst themselves, and then everyone would sleep, with the dwarves alternating shifts on watch so that nothing would sneak up on them in the dead of night. Then they would wake, have breakfast, and be on the road again to do it all over.

The dwarves took to the routine with little problem and minimal complaining. For Melliel, however, she was already beginning to feel restless. It was not because the travel was so uneventful, nor was it because the travel was difficult in any way. It was due solely to the fact that she felt completely and utterly useless.

None of the dwarves ever asked her for help, and anytime she volunteered to do anything around camp – which was often – she was always denied. She wasn't sure if it was because her helping around camp meant they'd actually have to interact with her, or if it was because she was a female and they had too strong a sense of propriety to let her do their chores. Whatever the reason, she was never asked to help hunt, or collect wood from the forest, or clean the dishes after dinner, or help keep watch at night. There had not even been a chance to fulfill her duties to the company, since Thorin barely deemed to acknowledge her, let alone ask her for guidance on the path ahead.

Melliel felt like she was serving no purpose whatsoever. She was just…there.

It also didn't help that there hadn't been much progress in terms of her connecting with the dwarves. While only Dwalin and Glóin still seemed determined to go out of their way to be rude to her, the rest of the dwarves were certainly content to keep their distance. Most of the time, they just talked amongst themselves and excluded her from conversation, and on the rare chance she tried to join in, she usually was just met with blank stares before they continued on as though she'd never spoken at all.

It wasn't exactly pleasant, being ignored and excluded, but she could handle it for now. Even the muttered insults and glares of dislike from Dwalin and Glóin didn't bother her much. No, the only real disappointment out of everything came in the forms of two dwarf brothers, who had suddenly and unceremoniously rescinded whatever friendship they'd been on their way to achieving.

Kíli and Fíli had been giving her a very wide berth since leaving Bree, and their sudden distantness stung more than she had expected it would. She had truly thought that they had broken through that barrier of awkwardness and had been on their way to becoming friends. She had thought they had liked her. Unfortunately, it seemed she had been mistaken. Over the past few days, neither brother had said anything more to her than perhaps a passing good morning or formal milady. The fun, friendly, joking brothers she had spent the day with in Bree were gone, replaced by reserved, formal, colder versions that appeared to want nothing to do with her. It was as if that day in Bree had never even happened, and she could not deny her disappointment.

She supposed there were some glimmers of hope, though, here or there. Ori, the youngest of the dwarves, had taken to giving her bashful smiles and quiet good mornings whenever they crossed paths, Bombur seemed to be slowly warming up to her – probably because she constantly complimented his cooking – and Óin, the old one with the ear trumpet, at least acknowledged her if their eyes met. The only one who actually made conversation with her and even rode next to her on occasion was Bofur, who genuinely didn't seem bothered by her being an elf. Her newfound companionship with the jolly dwarf was certainly something she considered to be a small victory.

All things considered, she supposed things weren't terrible. Certainly not as good as she hoped, but not as dismal as she had feared, either. For now, she had decided to just stay out of the way, thinking it would make things easier. She made quiet contributions to the camp, like adding wood to the fire when nobody was looking or sneaking extra rations into Bombur's pack for him to use in his cooking, but otherwise kept quiet and gave the dwarves space. In the meantime, she had Bilbo, Bofur, and Gandalf for conversation and entertainment. In time, maybe the rest of the company would come around…or, at least, she hoped they would.

On a sunny afternoon three days after they had departed Bree, Melliel rode in her usual spot toward the back of the company with Bilbo by her side. She had given up trying to do any sort of guiding, since any time she so much as breathed in Thorin's direction he seemed to take it as a personal insult. Instead, she enjoyed the lush scenery and chatted with Bilbo, tuning out the casual conversation of their traveling companions as they trotted along.

"What is Lothlórien like?" Bilbo asked with interest.

Melliel looked over at him, then smiled a bit. "Very beautiful. Some say that it is the most beautiful place in all of Middle Earth," she told him. She did not miss the way Nori, who rode just ahead of them, snorted doubtfully when he overheard her. "The trees there are called mallorn trees," she continued, ignoring Nori. "It is the only place east of the sea where they grow. They are the biggest trees in the world, with smooth, silver bark, and their leaves are green on top and silver underneath. In the autumn and winter, the leaves turn gold and the branches grow beautiful, golden flowers. That is why the realm is often referred to as the Golden Wood."

"That sounds lovely," Bilbo said with a wistful expression.

Melliel nodded. "It is," she confirmed. "The trees are so large that the heart of the realm, Caras Galadhon, is built into them. The elves there live in flets high in the trees."

Bilbo got a far away look on his face as he tried to picture what she was describing. Whatever he conjured up in his mind must have been pleasant, because he had a smile on his face. "How splendid it must be to live there."

Melliel nodded once. "It is a peaceful place. The lord and lady of the realm have ensured that it is safe and thriving. Life is much simpler there than many other places I have seen," she acquiesced.

"Why leave then?" Bilbo asked curiously. "Why not stay at home?"

Melliel sighed quietly. "Lothlórien is not my home. Not really," she told him.

Bilbo looked confused. "But Gandalf said that was where you were from."

"My family hails from there, yes. But I would still not call it home," Melliel told him. "As lovely as the Golden Wood is, being there…often brings forth too many unpleasant memories for me to fully enjoy it."

Bilbo went very quiet for a moment, his expression hesitant, as if he knew he had breached a sensitive topic and was unsure whether or not he should say anything more. "Do you…wish to talk about it?"

Melliel turned her gaze away from the hobbit and did not answer at first. For memories she tried very hard not to dwell on were surging to the surface now, making her lips pull down into a frown…

OOO

Melliel held her mother's hand tighter, her free hand reaching over to brush Lúthril's hair back away from her face. The beautiful elf lay in bed, her body near motionless save for her slow, shallow breathing. Her eyes were closed, and her skin, though always fair, had taken on a frightening pallor. Even the warm, golden glow from the leaves and flowers outside the window couldn't put enough color back into her face. Lúthril looked ashen and sickly, and it was clear by her lack of grip that her strength was waning.

"Mother?" Melliel said gently, her brows pinched together with worry. "Can you hear me?"

Lúthril's only response was to momentarily open her blue eyes and look at her, though the gaze was unfocused and she only had the strength to keep them open for a few short moments. As her eyes slid closed again, Melliel let out a shaky breath, the feeling of dread in her belly worsening.

"She is fading," a voice said behind her.

Melliel looked over her shoulder to see that her grandmother, as well as her grandfather, were standing in the doorway. Both were looking at Lúthril with great sadness in their eyes.

"Is there nothing we can do?" Melliel asked brokenly. "Is there no way to help her?"

Galadriel stared at her daughter for a long moment, then looked to Melliel. "She is beyond our help, dear granddaughter. Too often love between an elf and a mortal ends in tragedy. I had hoped Lúthril would be able to escape it, but…she is succumbing to her heartbreak," she explained. Galadriel swallowed hard, her eyes filling with grief. "All there is to do now is cherish whatever time we have left."

Melliel felt a tear slide down her cheek and turned back to her mother, squeezing her hand harder. "Please, mother. Do not go," she whispered urgently, refusing to believe that her mother might soon be gone. "Stay with me," she practically begged.

Lúthril did not respond.

OOO

"Melliel?"

Bilbo's voice made her blink back to the present. Melliel looked at the hobbit again, doing her best to push those heartbreaking memories away. "Thank you for the offer, but I think I would rather leave the past behind me for now," she said quietly.

Bilbo, who could see that their conversation had upset her, immediately nodded. "Right. Of course."

Melliel gave him a small, grateful smile, then turned her eyes forward again.

The company stopped to make camp at sun down, and the dwarves went about their usual business. Dori and Ori went into the nearby forest to start collecting firewood, Bombur started getting out pots and pans to get dinner going, and Kíli and Fíli went to tend to the ponies, while the rest set out their bedrolls for the night. Melliel, unable to contribute in any other way, had taken it upon herself to use her keen sight to their advantage and make sure the places they chose to settle for the night were indeed safe. She did so again now, quietly walking the perimeter and thoroughly studying their surroundings. Once she was satisfied that nothing was amiss, she took Tallagor over to where Kíli and Fíli were getting the ponies settled.

Kíli spotted her first, and upon setting eyes on her, he immediately looked uncomfortable. As she approached, he swallowed hard and shot shifty looks back toward where the rest of the company was. That was when Fíli finally noticed her as well, and he stood a little straighter, his expression going carefully neutral.

"Good evening, milady," he greeted cordially.

"Good evening," she said back.

Neither brother said anything more, and an awkward silence settled over them. Fíli was watching her with that same, guarded expression, but Kíli was fidgeting on the spot, as if there was something he desperately wanted to say to her, only he was doing his best to refrain from it.

She should have grown used to their strange behavior by now, since it was how they had been acting around her since leaving Bree, but she couldn't help but feel a little hurt by it. "I have only come to secure Tallagor for the night," Melliel said as neutrally as possible. "I will be gone from your presence soon enough."

Her tone must have betrayed the fact that she was upset, because guilt immediately flashed through both pairs of eyes staring back at her. Fíli's shoulders slumped a little, his braids shifting as he frowned. "Melliel – " he started to say.

"Thorin forbid us from speaking to you," Kíli blurted out, as if he could no longer physically hold the words back anymore. Fíli immediately sighed and gave his brother an exasperated look for his lack of tact. "We have not been ignoring you because you did anything, or even because we wanted to. It's just…" Kíli glanced back toward camp again. "Uncle is very strict, and intimidating, and he was adamant we keep our distance."

"It's true," Fíli chimed in. "You have done nothing wrong, and if we have upset you, we are truly sorry," he apologized sincerely. Kíli nodded quickly in agreement. "We only kept our distance to appease him until he…calms down some."

Melliel felt a small weight lift off her shoulders. She was very relieved to know that Kíli and Fíli had not had a change of heart about her after all. But as she glanced back toward camp, where she saw that Thorin was watching them with an unmistakable expression of disapproval, she could not help the swell of annoyance that quickly surged up.

The mere fact that Thorin had gone so far as to forbid his nephews from even speaking to her was absurd. They were in the same company and traveling in close quarters with one another – just how long did he think he would actually be able to keep them from interacting? But Melliel supposed the order wasn't too much of a surprise in the end. When she had spoken to the grumpy dwarf in Bree, he had made it very clear to her that he didn't want her around his nephews. Ordering them to stay away from her had likely seemed the only way to keep them apart.

"It is fine," Melliel told the brothers with a forced smile. "I am not upset with you."

"Are you upset with Thorin?" Fíli asked.

Melliel lifted a brow and almost said yes, but she held her tongue instead, not wanting to contribute to the tension the brothers must have felt being stuck in the middle of things. "You are his family, and he does not trust me. I suppose I cannot begrudge him trying to protect his kin…even if the perceived threat is nonexistent," she answered diplomatically.

Kíli rolled his eyes. "We tried to tell him that he was wrong about you and that he needn't worry, but he wouldn't listen," he explained.

"Like we said, stubborn as they come," Fíli reminded her, not that Thorin had given her a chance to forget that piece of information.

"So I am realizing," Melliel said with a hint of sarcasm. She glanced back at Thorin one last time, then finally finished tying up Tallagor for the night. "I shall leave you to it, then. We would not want to anger him, would we?"

Kíli and Fíli gave her apologetic smiles again, which she waved off with a smile of her own, silently telling them that it wasn't their fault. Not wanting to get them in trouble, she left them to their chores and went back to camp. She was very aware of Thorin's eyes following her as she did so, but she refused to acknowledge him.

Melliel sat quietly by herself as she waited for Bombur to finish making dinner. Bilbo was usually close by, but he had been acting a little more reserved as well after their conversation earlier in the day. He had set up his bedroll several feet away, so that he was still in the general proximity, but not too close. The fact that he was behaving oddly too was enough to have her frowning. She had already lost the company of Kíli and Fíli until their paranoid uncle decided she wasn't some evil monster come to destroy them – she did not want to lose her friendship with Bilbo to boot.

She was still stewing over that when Gandalf came to sit down next to her.

"You have been quiet today, mellon," he said, giving her a searching look.

Melliel glanced at the wizard and shrugged. "I am not feeling very conversational today."

Gandalf eyed her, his brows creasing a little. "Any particular reason why?"

Melliel looked to Thorin, who was on the opposite side of the camp, talking quietly with Balin. "I suppose I am still getting used to our companions," she said.

Gandalf hummed, though he seemed to sense she wasn't telling him everything. "Some of the dwarves seem to be warming up to you," he said with an encouraging nod.

"And the others treat me as though I am a plague," Melliel countered. "None more so than our fearless leader," she added, glancing in Thorin's direction again. "Do you know he banned Kíli and Fíli from associating with me?"

Gandalf pursed his lips at that. "He is being more hard-headed than even I could have predicted," he admitted, almost moodily, no doubt reflecting on the conversation she had overheard in Bree.

"That is putting it mildly," Melliel huffed.

"Have you spoken to him any?" Gandalf questioned.

"I have tried, but he was…not receptive," she told him. Melliel shook her head. "I fail to see what purpose I serve on this quest if he refuses to listen to me, Mithrandir."

Gandalf sighed heavily through his nose. "Do not doubt yourself because of his behavior," he said. "I am still very certain you will be of great value to us. He may not see it yet, but he will."

Melliel gave Gandalf an unconvinced look. "You are far more optimistic than I am."

Bombur announced dinner shortly after. Once the dwarves had gotten their portions, Melliel, Gandalf, and Bilbo went to fill their bowls. As Gandalf and Bilbo returned back to where they had been sitting, Melliel glanced back and forth between the two contemplatively. When she saw how lonely Bilbo seemed, she came to a decision and went to where the hobbit sat.

Bilbo looked up at her in surprise as she came to a halt by his side. "May I join you?" Melliel asked.

"Er, yes. Yes, of course," Bilbo stammered out with a nod.

Melliel smiled and sat down, making herself comfortable next to the hobbit. It was impossible not to notice how tense he seemed, nor could she miss the awkward way his eyes kept glancing over at her.

"You have been avoiding me," Melliel stated bluntly.

Bilbo seemed caught off guard, his spoon stopping a few inches away from his mouth as his eyes darted to hers quickly. "What? No, no! I assure you I haven't! I…" He trailed off when he saw the way she was looking at him, them sighed. "Alright, yes, I have," he admitted reluctantly. He lowered his spoon and bowl. "I know I upset you earlier, and I just thought that …maybe you would rather not be in my company because of it."

Melliel smiled gently. "You did not upset me, Bilbo. It was my own memories that upset me," she insisted. She placed a gentle hand on his arm. "You are one of the few here who is kind to me, one of the few I consider a friend. I would hate to lose that over a simple misunderstanding."

Bilbo flushed, but looked undeniably pleased to hear that she considered him a friend. "You haven't. And you won't," he assured her.

"Good," Melliel said with a satisfied nod. "It is settled then. Shall things go back to normal now?"

The hobbit nodded and grinned, looking to be in a far better mood now. "Yes, absolutely."

They shared a smile, the atmosphere around them lightening considerably. As had quickly become their habit, Melliel extended her bowl to him, silently offering up her meat. Bilbo took it happily, then gave her an extra helping of vegetables in return.

After dinner had been eaten and the dishes had been cleaned up, everyone sat about the camp, just taking a few moments to relax before turning in for the night. The dwarves, as was often the case, began telling stories to pass the time, speaking about tales of legendary battles or well-known dwarves through history. It was not the sort of conversation she could necessarily contribute to, but they had ceased speaking primarily in Khuzdul, so she and Bilbo could listen on at least.

Eventually there was a lapse in talk from the dwarves, and it was then that Bilbo gave her a questioning look.

"Have you any stories of great deeds done by your kind, Melliel?" he asked.

The question had been asked out of innocent curiosity on Bilbo's part. It was no secret that he was fascinated by elves, but thus far, his questions for her had been about her life, and he had always asked them when the dwarves weren't really paying attention. But the dwarves were certainly paying attention now, and the hobbit's inquiry had made the atmosphere in their camp suddenly feel far more tense. Melliel looked at Bilbo in surprise, then glanced around at the dwarves, several of whom were wearing sour expressions.

"Nobody here wants 'ta hear anything about no pointy eared louts," Dwalin said gruffly, which earned him more than one nod or murmur in agreement.

Bilbo stared at Dwalin with a frown, then finally shook his head in exasperation. "Can someone please, once and for all, explain this feud between elves and dwarves?" he demanded. "Why do you lot hate elves so much?"

Thorin was the one to answer. "They betrayed our people, Master Baggins," he said cooly. "When Erebor was burning, when our people were dying and suffering, King Thranduil of Mirkwood turned his back and left us to fend for ourselves." Thorin glared in Melliel's direction, as though she were responsible for the elven king's actions. "That is a betrayal that can never be forgotten."

Bilbo looked a little shocked to hear what Thorin has said at first, then looked very confused. "But Melliel is not from Mirkwood," he stated.

"Doesn't matter. They're all the same!" Glóin interjected. "Her lot have been betraying us since the First Age!" he accused with a point of his finger.

Melliel suppressed the urge to sigh with exasperation, while Bilbo seemed unsure what to make of that response. "I believe Master Glóin is referring to the troubles between the elves of Doriath and the dwarves of Nogrod," Gandalf explained to him with a grim look. "In the first age, King Thingol of Doriath hired the dwarves to forge something very special. The transaction did not go as planned, however, and troubles escalated very quickly. By the end, King Thingol was murdered, Doriath was sacked, and many lives, both elvish and dwarven, were lost. Relations have never been the same since," Gandalf concluded.

"My word," Bilbo said, seemingly stunned.

"Indeed," Dwalin said. "Countless lives lost, and all because the haughty elven king let his greed get the better of him and tried to have hard working dwarves killed."

Melliel quirked a brow at that. "It would seem we have heard different versions of this story, Master Dwalin," she said neutrally.

Dwalin snorted. "Not surprised the elves would lie to cover their misdeeds," he said with contempt. "I suppose you believe the elf was killed for no good reason? That it was the dwarves who started all of this?"

"I did not say that," Melliel said with a shake of her head. "I know elves who lived in Doriath before it was destroyed, and I know elves who were actually kin to Thingol, so the stories I have heard come from very reputable sources. The truth is that the feud was not solely the fault of the dwarves, nor was it solely the fault of the elves. There was wrongdoing on both sides."

The dwarves seemed a little taken aback by her words, as if they had expected her to take the side of the elves and talk badly about the dwarves. That she was actually neutral to both parties seemed to surprise them.

"You mean to say you have no ill feelings toward dwarves then?" Dwalin asked, almost accusingly.

Melliel shook her head. "I do not, nor do I see any reason for the feud to have lasted this long."

"I dare say not many elves would see it quite the same as you," Balin mused.

Melliel shrugged. "Perhaps. But the truth is that what happened then has nothing to do with me, or with any of you, for that matter," she added pointedly. "I simply see no use of holding a grudge against an entire race for something that happened long before I was even born." She looked at them for a moment, then turned her eyes to Bilbo. "So yes, Bilbo, there have been incidents between the elves and the dwarves over the years, and I will not fault our companions for not trusting elves, because they have a very good reason not to after what King Thranduil did." She looked back to the company now. "But not all of us wish to continue this feud. Our peoples were allies once, and I am among those who would prefer to have peace between us once more."

The dwarves seemed even more stumped. There was more than one skeptical look sent her way, as if some of the dwarves doubted that she really meant what she had said. But there was also interest on some of the faces looking back at her, and a rare few that seemed perhaps a little impressed.

"Well," Fíli finally said to break the silence that had fallen over the camp, a smirk tugging at his lips. "If we had to have an elf in our company, at least we got one with a little sense in her head."

It was clear his joke had been meant to ease the tension in the camp, and it worked to some degree – a few of the dwarves chuckled, but the rest still didn't appear to be sold. Melliel, grateful to Fíli, smiled at him. He smiled back and sent an encouraging wink her way.

Thorin cleared his throat, catching the attention of the company. When Melliel looked at him, he sent what seemed like a displeased look toward Fíli, before glancing at Melliel. His expression was unreadable as always, giving no indication as to what he thought about the conversation that had just taken place.

"I think that is enough talk of feuds for one night," he said to put an end to the conversation. "Surely there are more interesting things to discuss."

Melliel wasn't surprised he didn't want the conversation to continue – she already knew his hatred of elves would make it so that he wouldn't agree with her stance, and certainly Fíli's approval of her would only irk him further. She held Thorin's gaze for a moment, then glanced around at the company, waiting to see who would start talking.

"What about you, Gandalf?" Ori spoke up, his brows raising with interest. "You must have very interesting stories to tell, what with all you've seen and done."

There was a quick murmur of agreement. "Yes, Gandalf," Bofur contributed. "Tell us one of your riveting tales!"

The wizard, who had begun packing his pipe, raised his brows. "A riveting tale, you say?" he asked. He hummed, then gave a coy little smile. "How about I tell you one of my very favorite tales, then."

Several of the dwarves nodded in encouragement, as did Bilbo, who sat straighter with interest.

"Very well. Settle in, my dear fellows, to hear the story of the Shieldmaiden of Rohan."

As soon as those words left his lips, Melliel shot a quick look at the wizard, her brows furrowing. Of all the stories Gandalf could have chosen, he had chosen to tell one about her? What did he think he was doing? What exactly was he playing at? He did not turn to meet her eye, but she knew that he had sensed her reaction, which only made that coy smile widen. As he happily ignored her, keeping his attention on the rest of the intrigued company, Melliel sighed quietly to herself and turned her eyes elsewhere.

"Our story begins, quite obviously, in Rohan, nearly four hundred years ago," Gandalf stated as he began his story. "There lived a warrior named Haleth. He was a great man to behold – fierce in battle, staunchly loyal, and golden of heart. He was well known, and well respected, through all of Rohan. So great a warrior and smart a man that he was, he was named the Marshal of the Mark, a very honorable title indeed."

Melliel couldn't help the fond smile that pulled at her lips at the way he described her father.

"One day," Gandalf continued, "a rider came to Haleth bearing ill news. Orcs had ransacked a nearby settlement and killed all of its people in cold blood."

The dwarves frowned in response to this, some of them taking on looks of pure hatred at the mention of the Orcs. Bilbo, on the other hand, made a face of uncertainty. "Orcs?" he asked. "What are those?"

"Disgusting, vile creatures," Balin answered with a frown. "They only exist to murder and pillage and ruin the lives of innocent folk."

Bilbo gulped at that, nodding slowly. "Right," he answered warily.

There was a moment of silence, then Gandalf cleared his throat before continuing on.

"Haleth and his men, enraged by the atrocities the monsters had committed, chased after them with vengeance in their hearts. They rode far north, past the boarders of Rohan, determined that they would not stop until the Orcs had been vanquished from this earth. When they finally caught up to their enemy, they discovered the Orcs in a fight. They had ambushed a caravan traveling through the area, and though they had killed many already, some were still standing and fighting to protect the others. The Rohirrim quickly rode to their aid and slaughtered the Orcs."

"They soon discovered that this caravan were no mere common folk," Gandalf told them. "In this party were the Lord and the Lady of a nearby realm, and with them was the younger of their two daughters. They had been on their way to visit acquaintances with their guard when the Orcs stumbled upon them and attacked. Had it not been for Haleth and his Rohirrim, it is very likely they could have all been killed."

Melliel glanced back at Gandalf again and quirked a brow, not missing the fact that he had purposefully left out the fact that the caravan had been from Lothlórien. Whether that was because he didn't think they would be receptive to the story if they knew it involved elves, or if it was because he didn't want them to know who the story was actually about just yet, she couldn't say. It was probably a bit of both.

Gandalf paused for dramatic effect, then continued. "The Lord and Lady, grateful for their intervention and feeling indebted to them, invited Haleth and his men back to their realm for a celebration in their honor. The men accepted, and within a week's time they were guests in the Lord and Lady's home. Haleth and his men remained there for several days, interacting with the peoples and reveling in the realm's beauty, for many of the men had never left Rohan before, and the foreign lands were fascinating to them."

"As for Haleth, however, he was quite fascinated by something else entirely. Lúthril, the daughter of the Lord and Lady," Gandalf revealed. "She was an incredible beauty, and Haleth loved her from the moment he saw her. Lúthril, in return, quickly began to fall in love with the fierce, handsome Haleth. By the time the day for Haleth and his men to leave arrived, they were convinced that they could not continue life without the other. They revealed their romance to the Lord and the Lady, who at first did not approve of the pairing. Eventually, though, they had no choice but to accept that their daughter had given her heart to Haleth and that she would have no other. They gave the two their blessing, and shortly after, they were married."

Melliel smiled again. It was far from the first time that she had heard the story of how her parents had met, but it was still just as romantic as when she had first heard it. Apparently, she was not the only one to think so, for there was suddenly a small, wistful sigh. Everyone looked at Ori, who quickly turned bright red upon realizing that he had not only sighed aloud, but that everyone had heard it too.

"What?" he asked rather defensively.

Nori, smirking widely, punched his brother playfully in the shoulder. "Ori, you old romantic you," he teased.

Melliel did her best not to laugh as Ori flushed an even deeper shade of red, though the other dwarves did not give him the same courtesy. As the other dwarves chuckled and whistled, Ori frowned and shoved his brother, who was laughing the loudest. "Oh, shut up!"

There were cackles and jeers from the other as the two brothers got into a little shoving match, which only ended when Thorin intervened. "Quiet," he commanded, bringing an immediate halt to the commotion. Once he was satisfied that they were done behaving like children, he turned back to Gandalf and inclined his head. "Please continue."

Gandalf eyed the rest of the dwarves, cleared his throat, and resumed his tale. "A few years after their marriage, Lúthril gave birth to their first and only child. Our shieldmaiden," Gandalf said with a smile, finally getting to the main subject of the story. "This shieldmaiden was a most interesting little girl. Adventurous and smart, and always causing mischief," he said with distinct fondness in his tone. "She would sneak away from lessons to watch the soldiers train, or to find some new adventure to preoccupy her time. Several times she even attempted to follow after the Rohirrim on her pony so that she could ride and fight alongside them, much to her father's delight and dismay. As she grew into a woman, there was no denying her charm, nor her beauty, which was as great as her mother's. Proposal after proposal she rejected, too busy and interested in the world to entertain the thought of being someone's wife. For the blood of the Eorlingas is strong, and as she came of age, it was all too apparent that she had inherited her father's fighting spirit. Though kind and compassionate in day to day life, she was a natural with the sword, and once there was a weapon in her hand, she was fierce and strong and nobody to be crossed. She wished, more than anything, to be a warrior like her father. Anytime Haleth left for a mission, the shieldmaiden would be right there behind him, begging him to let her come along to help him slay Orcs."

"Sounds like she was raised right," Dwalin commented with a smirk, which made a few other dwarves voice their agreement. It nearly made Melliel laugh again.

Oh, if only he knew who he had just given such praise about.

Gandalf smiled mischievously, likely thinking the same thing she was, then continued on. "The family lived happily in Rohan for many years," she said. "Haleth continued his duties as Marshal well into his older years, with his wife and daughter by his side. Until one day, the inevitable happened. Haleth, now a man in his seventies but still fit and strong, was out with his men chasing a group of Orcs when they fell into a trap. They became surrounded by the monsters, and nearly all of the men were killed. Only Haleth and a few others survived, but they were grievously injured. Haleth returned home with his injured men, only to succumb to his own wounds days later. He died with both his wife and his daughter by his side."

Melliel had to look away at that, her heart clenching. She had known what had happened, of course, for she had been right there when he had passed. But it still hurt to think about, even after all these years.

"The two of them, deeply anguished by the loss of Haleth, were inconsolable," Gandalf continued on. "But then our shieldmaiden began to feel something else. Anger. And the fire for vengeance. She wanted to kill the Orcs that had slain her father and countrymen. She wanted to avenge his death."

"Did she?" Kíli asked eagerly, his eyes alight with interest.

Gandalf smirked and nodded. "She did," the wizard confirmed. "The shieldmaiden put on her armor, gathered thirty strong men, and hunted down the Orcs responsible. Though outnumbered, the brave men fought with passion and purpose. Yet none fought as fiercely as the shieldmaiden. Wielding her father's sword and determined to see the enemy vanquished, she cut down forty Orcs that day, and all without receiving so much as a scratch in return. She truly was a great warrior, just like her father before her," Gandalf stated proudly.

Many of the dwarves nodded in approval, some even saying well done or good on her. "What happened after that?" Bilbo asked curiously.

"Well," Gandalf said, "the shieldmaiden returned home, and she and her mother buried Haleth in the halls of Aldburg." The wizard frowned a little now, his expression turning more somber. "The two continued to live in Rohan for the next few years, but Lúthril never recovered from the loss of her husband. Eventually the shieldmaiden decided to take Lúthril back to her homeland in the hope that it might bring her some happiness. But, alas, nothing could mend her broken heart, and Lúthril passed on from this world to be rejoined with her husband."

A few dwarves frowned, looking genuinely saddened by that. Melliel again had to close her eyes, hampering down the grief that always washed through her whenever she thought of her mother's death.

"And the shieldmaiden?" Bofur asked curiously. "What happened to her?"

"Now that is another tale in itself," Gandalf said with a wag of his finger, his face brightening again. "There were some in Rohan who wished for her to become the new Marshal of the Mark, to replace her father. With the way she had fought and commanded the Rohirrim, she certainly seemed fit for the task. But, of course, convincing men to allow a woman such a high ranking position proved to be a near impossible task. Regardless, the shieldmaiden did not wish to live in Rohan anymore following the deaths of her parents. So, instead, she took to the wild and began to travel the world, wishing to see as much of Middle Earth as she could. And that, my dear fellows, is what she has been doing ever since."

There was a pause, where Gandalf seemed to wait for the dwarves to comprehend what he had said, and where Melliel braced herself for the inevitable. Finally, Bofur was the one to speak up.

"You mean to say the shieldmaiden still lives?" he asked with surprise.

Gandalf smiled. "Why, of course she does. And it just so happens that you are in the presence of her right this very moment."

Every single eye turned to Melliel, who did her very best not to feel self conscious about the varying looks of incredulity and surprise directed toward her. She glanced at the company, smiled slightly, then gave Gandalf a look. "It is a very flattering tale, Mithrandir," she told him. "Though not entirely accurate. I was never in contention for becoming a Marshal. And I did not kill forty Orcs - it was fifty," she said with a teasing smile.

Gandalf chuckled and pressed a hand to his chest. "Forgive me for the inaccuracies, my dear."

Melliel just laughed lightly.

"I thought you said you hadn't done anything grand in your life?" Kíli asked, one eyebrow quirking upward. "You failed to mention you're a legend in Rohan."

Melliel immediately shook her head. "I am no legend. A myth, perhaps, but certainly nothing more than that."

"She is being modest," Gandalf immediately countered. "People there still tell stories of her even to this day. In fact, I seem to remember there was once a very lovely tapestry hanging in one of the halls of Aldburg depicting your heroic battle," he said matter-of-factly.

"The tapestry was lost in a fire over a hundred years ago, and I assure you that anyone with the memory of my time there has long since passed on," Melliel insisted.

"Well, whether the people talk or not, consider me impressed," Bofur contributed. "We've got us a legend in our company, fellows! How about that?" he said, nudging the dwarf closest to him, who just so happened to be Nori.

"And here I thought the weapons were just for show," Nori commented, but not in an insulting way. He actually sounded like he was joking with her.

"If what Gandalf said is true, I think we have more than just a legend amongst us," Balin contributed, giving her a very studious look. "Your grandmother and grandfather – they are the Lord and Lady of Lothlórien, where you hail from?" he asked.

Melliel opened her mouth to answer, but Gandalf beat her to the punch. "Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn," he revealed. "Some of the oldest, wisest, and most revered elves in all of Middle Earth."

Several pairs of eyes stared at her for a moment as the dwarves put the pieces together.

"So you are, what? Royalty amongst your kind?" Fíli questioned, his brows lifting.

"No," Melliel immediately answered.

"I can think of many who would disagree with you on that, my dear," Gandalf countered.

Melliel gave Gandalf an unimpressed look. There was no denying the status her grandparents held, but she was a different story. There had been a time where she had attempted to settle in Lothlórien and involve herself in their formal duties, but it had not been the life for her. And while other elves tended to treat her differently once they learned whom she was related to, she had only ever seen herself as just…ordinary. A half elf from Rohan who just so happened to have very important family members, but nobody to be looked up to and certainly nobody to kneel before.

"My grandmother and grandfather's status has nothing to do with me," she insisted. "I am not royalty," she said with a pointed look toward Gandalf. "I am merely…me."

Gandalf opened his mouth like he was going to argue, but a stern look from Melliel made him close it again. She looked at the wizard for a moment longer, then glanced around at the rest of the company. It was hard to say what their reaction to this new information was – the expressions on the faces staring back at her ranged from speculative to curious. When her eyes found their way to the company's leader, she found him staring back with that same stoicism he seemed to have perfected, his eyes and face giving away absolutely nothing.

Finally, Thorin cleared his throat. "Well, this has been most enlightening," he commented neutrally. He looked at Melliel for a moment longer, then glanced around at the rest of the company. "I think we have heard enough tales for one night. We've an early start tomorrow. Let us turn in for the night."

Thorin called out the names of those who would take shifts on watch, then went to his bedroll without another word. The way the other dwarves looked at her as they followed their orders did not escape Melliel's attention, and she couldn't help but let out a long sigh through her nose before casting a look toward Gandalf, wishing greatly that the wizard had never said anything about her to begin with. He probably had only been trying to paint her in a better light by telling the company of what she had done in Rohan so long ago, but the revelation of her lineage was something she could have done without.

As she settled in to get some rest, she had a feeling that tonight's stories would result in the dwarves acting even more oddly around her.

Sure enough, there was a difference in the dwarves' behavior come morning time.

The first unexpected thing to happen came from Balin, who just so happened to pass by as she was packing up her bedroll. When their eyes met, he gave her a nod and a polite smile, followed by a courteous, "Good morning, Lady Melliel."

Now Balin wasn't generally outright rude to her, but he was definitely amongst those who was not fond of elves, so he usually tried not to interact with her if he didn't have to. That he had said anything to her at all, let alone so nicely, had her blinking in surprise and barely managing to reciprocate the sentiment before he was moving on to do whatever he was doing.

The next, even more unexpected thing came from Ori. After breakfast had been eaten and the dwarves began to break down their camp, Melliel heard hesitant footsteps approaching from behind her. When she turned, she was met with the sight of Ori, already red in the face and holding tightly to what looked like a journal of some kind.

"Good morning, Lady Melliel," he greeted, fidgeting slightly on the spot.

"Good morning, Master Ori," she said in return. "Can I help you with something?"

After a moment of hesitation, he tilted his head curiously. "You truly know elves who have been in Middle Earth since the First Age?" he asked.

"I do," Melliel confirmed.

"Perhaps…you could tell me of them some time?" Ori inquired, his cheeks burning even more red. "I am a scribe, you see," he explained, motioning to his journal. "I enjoy hearing a good tale, and I have to imagine that anyone who has been around that long has interesting stories."

Melliel nodded. "Certainly."

Ori fiddled with the book in his hands. "And…perhaps you could also tell me of your own adventures?"

Melliel immediately smiled at that. "It would be my pleasure," she said sincerely.

Ori, if possible, blushed even fiercer, but offered a timid smile nonetheless. Nori chose that moment to pass by, and when he saw his younger brother acting so bashfully around her, he made a big show of rolling his eyes.

"Oh, Mahal, Ori. Don't you go takin' a fancy to the elf," he said, shoving the other dwarf's shoulder. "This is no time to flirt."

Ori frowned and immediately shoved his brother back. "I'm not flirting. It's called being polite. Perhaps you should give it a try sometime!"

Nori merely scoffed, then looked at her before giving an overexaggerated bow. "Your highness," he said, before smirking and then sauntering away.

Melliel quirked a brow, genuinely unsure if he was joking with her or mocking her, and looked to Ori for an explanation. He merely sighed and shrugged a shoulder. "Never mind him. He has always been a trouble maker. He enjoys getting a rise out of people."

"I see," Melliel said with a slow nod. "Well," she continued on, getting back to their previous conversation. "Whenever you would like to talk, you need only come and find me. I am never too far away."

Ori nodded, flashed one last bashful smile, and then was on his way.

She went about her own business as they prepared to depart, very aware of some of the looks still being directed her way, but pretending as though she was oblivious to it. Dori, who had never spoken to her and very rarely even acknowledged her, gave her a nod of greeting when their eyes happened to meet, though it looked like it almost pained him to do so. When her gaze eventually found that of the company's leader, she was even more surprised to see that he wasn't watching her with that same look of loathing and suspicion. She thought she saw something akin to interest in his eyes, as if he were looking at a difficult puzzle that he was having trouble putting together. But then Balin caught his attention and Thorin looked away, and Melliel was left unsure whether she had just been seeing things or not.

There was a notable change in the way the dwarves were treating her, that was for sure, and while it was strange, she couldn't necessarily say that it was bad. It was just…different.

"Get outta the way, elf," a familiar voice barked, making her blink and look away from where Thorin and Balin were conversing with each other. She looked at Dwalin, who was trying to guide his pony through the area where she was currently standing. "We've no' got time for you to stand around as immobile as a ruddy tree," he added snidely.

Well, at least this was one thing that hadn't changed. Supposed royalty or not, Dwalin didn't seem to care and seemed content to keep treating her with the same amount of disdain as before. She found she couldn't even be mad about it. In fact, it almost made her respect him a little.

"Not all trees are immobile, actually," she couldn't help but say as she moved out of his way. "Have you never heard of Ents?"

Dwalin looked at her as though she had grown a second head. "You mistake me for someone who wants to hear you blatherin' on, which I don't. Tell your stories 'ta someone else."

And then he headed off without another glance backward.

"Told you he was a grumpy bugger," another familiar voice piped up just as two dwarves appeared on either side of her. Fíli was smirking when she looked at him.

"He seems very dedicated to his mission to hate me. I almost have to admire him for it," Melliel said with a shrug.

Kíli, who was on her other side, snorted. "He hates most things, I think. He's had a stick lodged up his arse for ages, makes him a right nightmare to be around sometimes," he said, making Fíli chuckle. "But once you get used to him, you come to realize it's all just part of his charm," he said with a wink.

Melliel huffed out a laugh, then shook her head and looked between the two brothers. "Correct me if I am wrong, but are you two not banned from associating with me?"

The brothers shrugged in unison. "Yes, but – " Kíli began.

"We decided we no longer care what Thorin says," Fíli finished. "We like you, and he will just have to get over that."

"You are not worried about angering him?" Melliel questioned even as a smile pulled at her lips.

Kíli scoffed loudly. "It would not be the first time, nor will it be the last," he said with a smirk. "Now, princess, may we ride with you today? I think I speak for us both when I say that after last night's revelations, we have many questions," he said, gesturing between himself and Fíli.

Melliel lifted an eyebrow. "Yes, but only under the condition that you never refer to me as princess again."

"Very well," Fíli agreed readily. "Would you prefer your excellency? Or perhaps your grace? Or maybe – ?"

Melliel shook her head and walked away, leaving Kíli and Fíli to trail after her and loudly debate which royal title would suit her best, the two of them very clearly teasing her and having a lot of fun doing so. As annoying as it was – and as much as she hoped this was not a joke that would drag on – she couldn't help but smile to herself once they couldn't see it.

It was a very pleasant day of travel, which was a welcome change from how depressing the previous days had been. She spent the morning riding with Kíli and Fíli, answering any questions they had and happily exchanging stories with the brothers. After a while they were joined by Bilbo, and the four of them chatted the day away. Periodically, Melliel would feel eyes on her, and whenever she would look toward the front of the company, it would be no surprise to see Thorin watching them. He did not seem happy with the fact that Kíli and Fíli were disobeying his orders, and she kept waiting for the moment where he would call his nephews away. But that moment never came, and eventually she thought she saw resignation pass over his face, as if he had finally just accepted that keeping them separated would be impossible and it was no longer worth the fight.

Come nightfall, they made camp at the edge of an outcrop overlooking the Lone-lands. It was a small camp, tucked well out of view of the main road by tall rocks. While the dwarves started to get settled, Melliel did her nightly perimeter check, even pausing by the edge of the outcrop to eye the landscape down below. Seeing nothing of interest, she turned back to camp, pausing for a brief moment when she caught Thorin watching her yet again. Having grown quite used to this by now, Melliel simply turned away from him and went to secure Tallagor.

"Bombur, go ahead and start on dinner," she heard Thorin call a moment later.

Melliel set up her bedroll between Bilbo and Gandalf, as per usual. While the hobbit set up his sleep space for the night, Gandalf cleared his throat to catch Melliel's attention.

"Did I upset you last night, by telling your tale and revealing your lineage to the company?" Gandalf asked bluntly, his brows furrowed seriously.

Melliel blinked in surprise, simply because the question was so unexpected, then she sighed and shook her head. Perhaps she had been slightly annoyed at the time, simply because she hadn't known how the dwarves would treat her after everything they had learned. But thus far, it seemed as though Gandalf's revelations had changed things for the better, so she really couldn't complain.

"No," she told him with a reassuring smile. "I think it has helped some of the dwarves to see me in a better light. I should probably be thanking you."

Gandalf smiled at that, looking relieved. "Anything to help."

"Everything alright?" Bilbo interjected quietly, looking back and forth between the two of them with confusion, since he did not understand the Elvish language being spoken.

"Perfectly fine," Melliel assured with a nod.

Dinner was served about half an hour later, then after everyone had eaten and the dishes had been put away again, everyone settled in for the night. Some of the dwarves went straight to sleep, feeling tired from the long day of travel, but several others found other ways to preoccupy themselves until bedtime. Kíli and Fíli took to smoking their pipes, Bofur busied himself whittling away at a small wood carving he had started working on the previous day, Ori was scribbling away in his journal, and Dwalin took to sharpening his weapons.

Thorin, Melliel noticed, actually seemed to have dozed off, surprisingly enough. From what she had been able to tell, Thorin seemed to struggle with sleep, especially so now that they were out in the wild. Whether it was because of paranoia or something else, he seemed to only ever get a few hours a night, and even then it never seemed restful. She was almost glad that he was taking rest now – maybe if he got a decent sleep, he'd stop being so cranky all the time.

Melliel chatted with Bilbo and Gandalf for a bit, until Bilbo got up to wander around camp and stretch his legs, feeling too restless after sitting on a pony all day to continue to sit now. While he paced the camp, Melliel turned to Gandalf.

"With the pace we have kept, it will not be too much longer before we near Rivendell," Melliel pointed out. "Have you spoken to Thorin about meeting with Elrond?"

"No," Gandalf answered. "I thought it wiser to discuss the matter once we are nearer."

Melliel lifted a brow. "How much nearer? Once we are knocking on the door of Imladris?" she asked knowingly.

Gandalf huffed a laugh. "If I thought I could get away with it, yes," he answered truthfully, which made her smirk. "I will discuss it soon, but I may need help convincing him," he added with a meaningful look.

Melliel shook her head gravely. "Then I suggest recruiting Balin or Dwalin for the task," she countered. "Thorin would sooner listen to the ramblings of an Orc before he would listen to me."

No sooner had those words left her mouth when there was suddenly a terrible screeching sound somewhere in the darkened lands down below. Melliel, far too familiar with what that sound meant, went on alert instantly. She was on her feet, with her bow in hand, and hurrying toward the outcrop's edge in the blink of an eye. While she began to scan the darkened trees beyond their campsite, the others in the camp stirred as well, also put on alert by the sound of Orcs somewhere out in the distance.

"What was that?" Bilbo asked worriedly as he quickly scurried back to the safety of his spot in the camp.

"Orcs," Kíli answered.

"Orcs? Out here?" Bilbo responded, sounding frightened.

"Of course," Fíli answered. "There'll be dozens of them out there."

"The lone-lands are crawling with them," Kíli tagged on, his tone serious. "They strike in the wee small hours of the night, when everyone's asleep. Quick and quiet, no screams. Just lots of blood."

There was a dramatic pause, then the two brothers started snickering to one another. Melliel glanced back at them, her lips pulling down into a frown, then she looked at Bilbo, who wore a terrified expression at the thought of such an attack taking place. It was clearly the reaction they had been hoping to get out of the hobbit, but it was no joking matter to Melliel, who had seen first hand what a band of Orcs could do to unsuspecting passersby.

And she was not the only one who did not find their joke amusing.

"You think that's funny?" Thorin asked, now wide awake and making his way across the camp, his tone ripe with disapproval and disgust. "You think a night raid by Orcs is a joke?"

The two brothers sobered up immediately, both instantly looking guilty and shamed. "We didn't mean anything by it," Kíli said, sounding like a scolded little boy.

"No you didn't," Thorin said in return, before continuing past his nephew with a deep scowl. "You know nothing of the world."

Melliel eyed Thorin as he came to stand about ten feet away, also peering out into the darkness down below. He looked tense and angry, but she supposed that wasn't anything new – he always looked tense and angry. In this particular case, however, she couldn't fault him. Hearing Orcs anywhere nearby was never a good thing, and Kíli and Fíli making light of the horrible things those monsters could do didn't sit right with her either.

As if he could feel her eyes on him, Thorin looked her way. For a moment they merely stared at each other, then he turned his attention back out to the landscape.

"Don't mind him, laddie," she heard Balin say behind her. "He has more cause than most to hate Orcs."

"What happened?" asked Bilbo, ever the curious fellow he was.

"After the dragon took the Lonely Mountain, King Thror tried to reclaim the ancient dwarf kingdom of Moria for our people," Balin began to explain, and Melliel looked back at him with interest as she and the rest of the company listened. "But our enemy had gotten there first. Moria had been taken by legions of Orcs, led by the most vile of all their race. Azog, the Defiler."

Balin practically spit the name out, as though it were a curse, and a quick glance toward Thorin showed her an expression of deep hatred, far more potent than anything she had seen from him before.

"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 at his father's death. He went missing, taken prisoner or killed, we did not know. We were leaderless. Defeat and death were upon us."

Balin paused to glance toward where Thorin stood, a proud look taking over his aged face. "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."

Balin looked back to the company now, all of whom were listening intently. "Under Thorin's leadership, our forces rallied and drove the orcs back. Our enemy had been defeated." Balin frowned somberly. "But there was no feast, no song, that night, for our dead were beyond the count of grief. We few had survived." Now Balin looked to Thorin again with that same pride. "And I thought to myself then, there is one who I could follow. There is one I could call King."

Every eye turned to Thorin, including Melliel's. She had heard of the great battle that had taken place at Moria, and she had known that Thorin had been part of it, as well as earned his moniker there. But she had never heard the details, and after hearing Balin's story, she felt as though she was seeing Thorin in a new light. He had watched his grandfather be killed and had lost his father in the madness of battle, and yet still he had found the courage and strength to rally his men and defeat his enemy. It was an impressive feat, something that very few could likely accomplish, and she could not help but feel a great surge of respect for him.

Thorin turned and paused when he saw that everyone was staring at him, as if he had been lost in his own thoughts and momentarily forgotten that anyone else was even still present. It was Bilbo who finally broke the silence that had followed Balin's retelling.

"And the Pale Orc? What happened to him?"

"He slunk back into the hole whence he came," Thorin answered. "That filth died of his wounds long ago."

Thorin said nothing more. He stepped away from the cliff edge and began to make his way back into camp, though his steps slowed as he neared Melliel. When he paused and lifted a brow at her, she blinked unsurely, not certain what exactly he was trying to convey. He then sent a pointed look to the trees down below before turning his eyes back to hers in silent question. She finally realized he was inquiring as to whether or not she had seen anything that might be a cause for concern. This time Melliel blinked in surprise, because it was the first time he had come to her for…well, anything.

After she shook her head to indicate that she hadn't seen anything, he nodded once and then continued on his way, not looking at her again.

Still stunned, but feeling oddly encouraged, Melliel turned her eyes to the landscape one last time. Just as she was about to turn back toward camp, she thought she saw some kind of movement in the dense foliage on a ridge across the way. But upon narrowing her eyes and giving the spot a thorough lookover, there didn't appear to be anything there. Perhaps it had been a wandering animal, or just the wind stirring the leaves.

Regardless, Melliel decided she would keep her own watch for the rest of the night, just in case.

"You didn't say there'd be an elf with them."

Yazneg scowled as he looked at the orc, Baronk, who sat astride a warg next to him. "How was I supposed to know?" he growled back, the anger and annoyance in his tone making his own warg shift and growl.

"Well, it complicates things!" Baronk complained.

Yazneg had to resist the urge to run the other orc through with his blade in a fit of frustration. He was well aware that the presence of an elf complicated things. With her hearing and her sight, staying on Thorin Oakenshield's tail would be far more difficult. They would have to be careful from here on out. The she-elf had almost spotted them once already - they'd barely managed to get out of the line of sight in time once they'd realized just who the dwarf king had in his company. If she caught even a glimpse of them, if she heard even a whisper of them tailing the company, their mission would be a complete failure. If they failed, that would severely disappoint Azog. And Azog the Defiler did not like to be disappointed.

"We just 'ave to be smart. Keep out o' sight, bide our time, don't do nothin' stupid. We'll get 'em when the time's right," Yazneg said determinedly. Then he scoffed and glared back toward where they had left the enemy behind. "If Oakenshield thought havin' an elf in his company would protect him, he's got another thing comin'."

"Yeah," Baronk agreed, before looking to Yazneg. "I lay claim to the she-elf," he stated boldly. "Always did love the taste of elf flesh," he added with a leering grin.

"Once Oakenshield and his company are ours, you can do whatever you want with 'er," Yazneg promised him.

Baronk's answer was to laugh maliciously as they turned and rode away.