Chapter Text
The peak of Erebor crested gracefully over the clouds. The Company had given an estimated time frame of a week, maybe two, before you reached the destination. Bilbo, who you had grown so fond of, along with Fili and Kili had stayed by your side from the moment Gandalf recommended you join the Company, much to the dismay of Thorin. Gandalf had found you, confused and bewildered in Rivendell, where you had shown up out of the blue, suddenly in the midst of Middle Earth. You were lucky when Gandalf had taken you under his wing, so to speak, and guided you to Bag End, meeting the Company there and beginning the journey of reclaiming the Dragon-ridden homeland.
You had endured so much, for someone who had no previous fighting experience-or Middle Earth experience. The appearance of Orcs, Wargs and Wizards had left you yearning for home more than ever before. Gandalf, in all his wisdom, had promised you safe passage home once this quest was completed. Thus, here you were.
The elves from Rivendell had been more than kind to you, bathing you, feeding you, and, more importantly, clothing you with the fittings necessary to acclimate to this new world. You trekked at the back of the Company, donned in simple breeches and a tunic, your hair braided back-a kindness imparted onto you from one of the many generous elven maids. Thorin, of course led the group, each step of his seeming more confident than the last. You knew how happy he must feel, being so close to his home, so close in reach to reclaiming it.
Gandalf walked next to you, and you appreciated it. You needed a comforting presence, whether it be him or Bilbo. "You're awfully quiet today, my dear." he said, keeping pace with her. She looked up, and noticed the burnt edges on his gray cloak, most likely from the Goblin Tunnels. "I'm always quiet," she smiled. He returned it, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I believe it to be good to be lost in thought sometimes, helps the time pass.'' His tone was lighter now, more like the Gandalf she met in Rivendell, the one who so persuaded her to accompany him.
"I'm scared," she said quietly, almost above a whisper. "It would be foolish not to be, my dear. I did promise you a safe passage home, did I not?" she stopped walking, as did he, both hands now resting in the middle of his gray staff. She sighed, now almost exasperated with him. "Yes, Gandalf you did, but..." she stopped, looking away and folding her arms across her chest. He nodded to her to continue. She took a deep breath, willing her voice not to quiver. "There's no guarantee any of us will make it out alive. What is Bilbo thinking? The worst of us is behind? We still have to get rid of a dragon?!" She tried keeping her voice calm, but it was difficult. He sighed, closing his eyes and then opening and looking at her again. At this point she had realized the Company had stopped too, some of them pulling out maps and using hushed voices.
Gandalf's face changed for a moment, something unknown flickering in his eyes. "Something tells me the Dragon will be the least of your worries." The sentence made her chest cold. "What is that supposed to mean?!" Suddenly, though, he let an old hand grace her cheek and she felt lighter once more. "Do not fret, the fates have not yet made their decision."
It was at that moment when she realized a quiet, terrifying hush had come over the entire Company, and, given the semi-perilous conversation with Gandalf, she positioned herself safely between Kili and Fili. She had grown close to them over the past few months, joking and playing the occasional prank with Kili and telling Fili stories late at night.
They felt brotherly; warm and safe and she knew she could trust them with her life, as she had many times before out of pure necessity. Kili had his bow drawn and Thorin was giving him the signal to hold. Something in her gut told her to stay still, to keep quiet. There was something close, something evil. Quietly, she unsheathed a small dagger, a gift from Gandalf. She had no real intention of using it, but having it out made her feel better, and a little less helpless when it came to the rest of the Company. Thorin quietly shushed everyone, but the moment he put his fingers to his lips, the treacherous beast that had been hiding in the shadows leaped, nearly taking Kili down with him.
Never before had she seen such a massive spider, such a terrible, evil creature. She felt Fili push her aside to safety, but that was when the rest of them lurched out of hiding. You have to be kidding. Spiders. Massive spiders. There must have been at least 10 of them, and she was even able to cut a leg off, but she was not nearly as strong or as skilled in weaponry as the Dwarves. An arrow stung one of them that was nearly a foot from here. But, it was not an arrow of Kili's, the only archer in the group. No, this arrow was finely crafted, dark wood and mountain green feathers brushed the end of it. No, this was an Elven arrow.