The Woman Out of Time [1]

Chapter 39: A Touch of Faith

I watch the mountain, a breeze sweeping through my hair from the west. I am drained. Physically, mentally, and spiritually. Everything I've fought for, every step was for nothing. I don't have the stones, I don't have a place I belong, and I've lost friends. I am drained, and I have no emotion left to give.

I have stayed strong for my friends and the people I care about most in this world. Now that bond has been broken by a few mere words.

I do not blame the dwarves or Bilbo, for that matter; this is all Thorin. But that's what has poured salt into the wound. The bastard has drawn me in, making me feel sorry for him. And from there, we grew a friendship. Then he discarded me like nothing. I know it's the dragon sickness talking, but there must be some truth behind his words. There must be something inside for the dragon sickness to corrupt.

I went about my duties, that being the only thing left for me here. I will look after the people of Lake Town and help them strive, which is all I can do.

I had begun to feel like I belonged here in Middle Earth, and now I feel empty again. I feel out of place, used by those around me again. No matter which world I'm in, I will be discarded and have no real use.

I sit on the stairs to the makeshift hospital, blinking away the tiny snowflakes that fall onto my eyelashes. The elves were kind enough to supply me with new clothes, discarding the dress for brown leather leggings, boots and a black vest. Overtop that, I have a faded forest green coat, the warmest clothing I've had in a while.

I kick away a stone on the floor, listening to the people of Lake Town enjoy their supper and drink the elves had provided. I look out to the scattered tents pitched by the elves. The presence of elven culture makes me long to talk to Arwen. Maybe she could help me overcome this slum and make sense of everything.

I wonder what Arwen is doing right now? She must be enjoying the comforts of Lorien, no doubt, spending time with her kin as the winter festivities come around.

Thranduil had only made a mockery of our attempt to speak with Thorin and declared that he would attack at dawn. Although it pains me, I can do nothing to stop it. I tried to reason with Thorin, but nothing will stop him or the dwarves from protecting Erebor.

"Ashley?" a voice calls from a distance, pulling my eyes from the white tents. "Ashley Hale!" the old voice tears through Dale.

The first thing I see is the grey point of the hat. My stomach flips as the wizard comes into my view, Gandalf marching in my direction. A cry of glee almost escapes my lips as I leap to my feet into a full sprint across the square. Tears sting my eyes from happiness at the sight of him, a heavyweight seeming to leave my chest. My green coat flows behind me like a tail as I descend another set of stairs falling full force into the wizard's embrace.

"You're here!" I cry out, probably crushing his old bones, as I squeeze him in a hug. I don't let go, praying that this isn't just another vision playing tricks on me.

"Thank the heavens you're alright", Gandalf states in a huff, returning my hug with a tight squeeze. "But what are you doing here?" he asks, pulling back from our hug, his hand still on my shoulder in concern. His blue eyes pierce through me with questions.

"It's a long story, but I got separated from the company, deciding to stay and help the people of Lake Town", I explain breathlessly. As I take in his form fully, my smile fades. A set of cuts line his face with dried blood, bruises littering his light skin. His hands are bandaged, the essence of dirt and grime staining the white fabric. "Gandalf, what happened to you? Where were you?"

Gandalf sighs. "Also, a long story for another time, Ashley. But your visions were right. A growing darkness lingers, its eye fixed on the Mountain. The Dark Lord Sauron has tried to return," Gandalf explains, his eyes tired with worry. "I fear reclaiming Erebor has not been in our best interest."