Trapped

Chapter 1 The Party

It was a cold night. The mist was crawling out of the valley, and wisped around my horse's hooves. The moon was half full, and it shone, showing my path before me. My silver and black curls hung around my waist, and my long fingers were grasping the short knives at my wrist. My silver horse snorted, and stamped at the ground. "Shush Thowra" I hush to him, softly. "Hush Mookari" I whisper to the blue and grey horse following us.

We ride in silence through the Shire for a while longer.

Soon, we turn up the road to the place I was being send to, 'Bag End'. As we turn up the road, both Thowra and Mookari throw up their heads and neigh, a great, echoing neigh, that flung itself around the valley, and came screaming back at us.

Almost immediately scuffling and mutterings come from a half open, round green door at the top of the hill. As we rise out of the mist, an axe peeks around the corner, followed by 13 dwarves, each armed to the teeth.

*Kili's pov*

A cold laugh comes out of the mist, and then a quiet, silky voice follows it, "It seems we have crashed the party, my dears...What a shame..." A hoof peeks out of the mist, followed by a silver horses bowed head. A body follows it, and then another horse, blue and grey. A dark and hooded rider is perched upon the first horse, with their hands resting softly on top of their huge curved knives, nestled in their scabbard at their belt.

I tighten the string on my bow. The rider leaps down from the horse. As they stalk towards us, they come into the light. My uncle, Thorin, immediately relaxes the grip on his sword. Silver and black curls, down to the riders waist, fall out of their hood. They throw their hood back, and reveal a hard, and yet somehow joyful face. There were many frown lines along her forehead, but not very many smile lines around her mouth. She looked about 30, but it was obvious that that was not her true age. She had an elongated face, with high cheekbones, and a deep brow. Strangest of all though, were her eyes, which were silver, and went from dark on the inside to a light grey on the outside.

As she walked to us she smiled, and took her right hand off her knife and held it out to Thorin, who shook it gladly. Her horses followed her, huge stallions, towering over our little ponies. She herself was taller than us, but not as tall as a man.

One thought filled my head.

She was gorgeous.

But she was filled with a sorrow I would never know.

"Thorin Oakensheild. Greetings, friend. And your company..." She bowed to Thorin, and then to all of us. She raised her eyebrows. "I expected a little warmer welcome, I must say."

We dropped our weapons and apologised, and then Mr Boggins invited her inside, rather flustered. Her horses turned and stood with ours, and didn't move an inch.

When she came inside, she took of her blue cloak and hung it next to ours. As she did so, she revealed her many knives and daggers hidden in pouches inside her leather jerkin. She wore trousers, and long boots up to her knees, as well as leather gloves. She stalked into the dining room, and sat at Thorin's shoulder.

After we all were seated again, Uncle spoke up.

"Friends, were are our manners! Here is the 14 member of our company. I'm sure you all know our new counterpart, but just to clarify, this is Silver Mist. You might also know her as the Wolf Queen. She will travel with us until lake town, then she has some business of her own."

*Silver Mist's pov*

I grinned as whispering started, proud of my reputation. I could catch fragments of the whispering. 'Shield maiden' and 'Shape Shifter' joins the words. I don't even mind when 'Deadly' and 'Ferocious' join them. But the instant the words 'Mad' falls out of the blonde haired dwarves' mouth sitting three seats down on my left, I lost control. I leapt across the tables, shoving the other two dwarves in my way over. Before he had time to draw his knives, I had selected my longest one from the collar of them at my wrist, and was holding it tightly against his throat.

'Speak again dwarf' I hiss at him. I can see in his eyes that he is scared, but also angry that no one acting.

'Put him down, Silver Mist' I hear from a familiar commanding voice from behind. 'Do not speak of battle that you have not fought through, nor kin you do not know' I snarl at the dwarf. Then, I leap across the table, in front of the shocked dwarves, and race out the door. I can feel myself changing already, growing from human to wolf. It happens sometimes when I lose control. The last words I hear as I wrench open the front green door is, 'Kili, go find her... But be careful. It is not wise to meddle with an angered wolf...'

My legs shorten, my arms lengthen, my nose grows to a snout. I am soon sprinting across the front lawn of poor Mr Boggins's house in my wolf form. I must have scared any self-respecting hobbit to death. The sight of a silver wolf with black legs and silver-golden eyes, the size of a small pony, racing across the fields, would have shocked any hobbit to death.

Soon I slow. This is stupid, I know, but to be greeted by a new company by being called mad, even when I didn't do anything to deserve that title, really put a bit of a damper on the evening.

Soon, as I reach a ridge, I stop. I can see Hobbiton beneath me. Little lights dot the plains. The mist does not stay there. It follows me, the reminder of a promise I might never fulfil.
I race at the orcs, snapping and biting them, killing them quickly. One thought fills my head.
We are outnumbered. If we stay, we will surely die. But they are taking them. My kin.
But most of all, my sisters.
'Starling!' I scream, 'Mootain! Eclipse!'. No. I rush at the wall of orcs. Angry now, a killing machine. But not quick enough.
I was separated from them, when the orcs surprise attacked us. They formed a wall around the pack, and I was left outside it. Cages, pulled by teams of orcs, rattle in from the other side. They are laughing now, jeering at my people. Suddenly, a burst of pain fills my shoulder, racing down my spine. I turn, and stare at my shoulder and the base of my neck. Two black arrows, rough and orc made, stick out of me.
My eyes fail me. A flash of colours dance across my eyelids. I fall to the ground, whimpering. The last thing I see before I lose conciseness is my kin, in rough wooden cages, being pulled away from me.
A voice calls from them. A voice I know. Starling. My youngest sister. 'Save me.......promise?'
'Promise'

I shake my head. Such thoughts won't save them. My shoulder burn from the scars the arrows left. I whimper, and lick them. The mist has caught up with me. I can no longer see Hobbiton. Its a shame. It's a nice town. Safe. Peaceful. I sigh. I suppose I will return tonight, gather my weapons, Thowra and Mookari as well, and leave.

I stand up and stare into the mist. And then I howl, telling this safe little world of my sorrows, and of my kin.