The Woman Out of Time [1]

Chapter 6: Harsh Words

Finally, after a day of rain, the skies disperse, revealing a lovely blue sky. The company welcomes the sun over the dampness of the cold rain. The clothes that the elves gave me have proven to be a godsend. They've kept me warm and dry enough, and with the sun now out, I don't find that I'm too hot either, even if I've shed a few layers.

We ride into a clearing, the valley revealing an old abandoned farmhouse in ruins. We come to a still, the company dismounting from their ponies to stretch their legs. I welcome the feeling of the ground, even though my legs ache from the lack of use.

"We'll camp here for the night", Thorin declares. "Fili, Kili. Look after the ponies. Make sure you stay with them."

"A farmer and his family used to live here..." Gandalf thinks aloud, walking up to the ruins with a stern thought. Thorin continues to give orders before Gandalf declares, "I think it would be wiser to move on. We could make for the Hidden Valley."

My spirits lift at the suggestion.

"I've told you already. I will not go near that place," Thorin replies, a fierce hatred burning in his eyes.

"Why not?" Gandalf justifies following behind the dwarven King "The elves could help us. We could get food, rest. Advice!"

"I do not need their advice," Thorin sneers.

"We have a map that we cannot read. Lord Elrond could help us."

"Help?" Thorin pauses in his travels, turning on Gandalf fiercely. "A dragon attacks Erebor; what help came from the Elves? Orcs plunder Moria, desecrate our sacred halls. The Elves looked on and did nothing. You ask me to seek out the very people who betrayed my grandfather and my father."

"You are neither of them. I did not give you that map and key for you to hold on to the past."

"I did not know that they were yours to keep."

I watch wide-eyed as Gandalf storms away from Thorin in anger. He doesn't even glance at the company as he makes for his horse.

"Everything alright?" Bilbo asks, "Gandalf, where are you going?"

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

"Who's that?"

"Myself, Mr Baggins!" Gandalf roars angrily, not at Bilbo but out of frustration with Thorin.  "I've had enough of dwarves for one day."

Gandalf mounts his horse in a huff and begins to ride off in a blink of an eye to cool down. Although I don't appreciate being left to deal with the dwarves, I understand the need to consult with you for a while.

"Is he coming back?" Bilbo asks Balin, the dwarf shrugging as he makes to join the rest of the company.

"He'll be back, Bilbo," I reassure Bilbo, placing a hand on the hobbit's shoulder. "He'll just need a little while to cool down."

Bilbo nods, still a little uneasy.

***

Once again, I sit by the fire, reading my book. I read over something about people like me tending to have individual gifts. They are rarely the same as others who can shift between worlds. These gifts depend on the person and their attributes. It isn't proven. It is a theory composed from a few recordings that each shifter had a unique gift between them.

Again, being a magical occurrence that no one understands here in Middle Earth, it can't be certain. No one knows enough about the shifting part, never mind the unique gift that comes with it.

If this is true, I assume my unique gift must be the visions. Gandalf had said the last shifter he knew had astral projection ability. It fascinated him that my gift was presented in visions. There's no knowing how far these visions can stretch and if they may prove some other use.